


Love Beyond All Fear

by Candolor



Series: Bilbo Baggins of Oropher's House, Elf-Kin [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Book!Legolas, Caring Thranduil, Elves, Emotionally Constipated Thorin, Gen, Hobbit Courting, Hobbit Culture & Customs, Hurt Bilbo Baggins, M/M, Mirkwood, Mpreg, Multi, Parent Thranduil, Pregnant Bilbo Baggins, Protective Legolas Greenleaf, Protective Thranduil, Thorin Is an Idiot, Thranduil Not Being An Asshole, Thranduil's A+ Parenting, the Woodland Realm adopted Bilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 56,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24828091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candolor/pseuds/Candolor
Summary: Finding an unconscious Bilbo in the thick of battle, Legolas takes him to the elf encampment to have the hobbit healed. Through that gesture began a series of events that leads to the revelation of Bilbo's pregnancy and an advise that urges Thranduil to keep Bilbo's survival a secret until the hobbit says he is ready. Of course, his best course of action for that was not to name Bilbo as Elf-Friend but Elf-Kin.Unfortunately, he did not take determined Dwarven Kings, Princes and the like into account.—-Guilty of the way he had treated his One, Thorin casts his pride aside to ask for the Woodland Realm's help in finding the Company's burglar in order to make amends at the very least. Not believing Bilbo could forgive him, Thorin wishes to earn the hobbit's trust and love once more even if it means casting tradition aside and courting his One in the ways of the hobbitsUnfortunately, Bilbo may be willing to forgive the Company and Thorin in words, his mind and heart is not yet ready to let go of the trauma and harm inflicted upon him.—-Inspired by Of Dwobbits and Elves by NerdKenz2001
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Original Character(s), Bilbo Baggins & Thorin's Company, Bilbo Baggins & Thranduil, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Legolas Greenleaf & Thranduil
Series: Bilbo Baggins of Oropher's House, Elf-Kin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795885
Comments: 485
Kudos: 477





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Of Dwobbits and Elves](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20246536) by [NerdKenz2001](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdKenz2001/pseuds/NerdKenz2001). 



> Hi guys, this is just something I got inspired to do as well as something I’ve been wanting to try and I hope you guys would like this and tell me what you think since I’m pretty happy with how the first chapter went!!!

Legolas was the one that found the halfling unconscious on the battlefield.

Thranduil had sent two of his captains with their troops to Ravenhill in order to save the Line of Durin after Mithrandir had reported the status to him. Upon the battle’s end, he received word from one of his healers that his son was in the private healing tents and was requesting his presence with urgency.

Though he knew he was meant to meet with the captains he had sent to Ravenhill, the fear and anxiety that overtook him were far stronger than he could control. Stopping a passing elf that he knew to be his messenger, he bade him direct his captains to the tent he and his son were residing in.

Having no desire to waste any more time, Thranduil rushed to the private healing tents, preparing himself for the sight of his only son injured and bleeding.

But no such sight greeted him.

Thranduil would have sank to the ground in relief had a more concerning sight not greeted his eyes.

Before him was Legolas kneeling by the halfling’s bedside who was resting upon a cot made far too big for him. Blood had matted his hair, eyes closed as if asleep and cuts seemed to litter various parts of his body.

Tending to him was the healer he knew to be named as Celephiel, her hands glowing with white light as she checked for anything amiss within the Halfling beyond exterior injuries.

Taking a hesitant step forward, Thranduil cleared his throat so his son would be made aware of his presence.

‘ _ Ionneg _ , what brings the halfling to our tent?’ He asked, his tone careful. He had little opinion formed about the halfling for he had only known him a short while but what he had seen was enough for him to wish no ill will upon the Child of the West.

Grey eyes looked up at him and Thranduil nodded encouragingly at his son. Though clearly unwilling to leave the halfling, Legolas still rose and embraced Thranduil in greeting before turning his gaze upon his rescue once more.

‘I found him unconscious on the battlefield,  _ Ada _ . He had a head wound and I believe some other injuries as well.’ Legolas reported, his tone was level but within those pale eyes, Thranduil saw a deep concern for the Halfling. ‘I chose to bring him here as a form of protection.’

‘Against the dwarves.’ Thranduil threw in, finishing the thought his son was too afraid to say out loud. ‘You took him into our protection so he would not be found by them.’

Legolas pressed his lips together before nodding slightly. There was no anger in the Elvenking as he pondered his son’s decision. He only did what he believed to be right.

‘That is not all,  _ Ada  _ .’ 

Thranduil frowned. There was trepidation in his son’s voice and when he looked upon the younger  _ ellon _ , he caught sight of Legolas’ expression and it was full of anxiety as he kept his gaze upon the Halfling.

‘What do you mean by that,  _ Mîwlas  _ ?’ Asked the Elvenking.

His son took in a breath as if to gather courage before looking unto his lord father, pale eyes shining with worry and another emotion Thranduil was unsure of reading.

‘ _ Ada _ , the halfling… he is with child.’

Thranduil closed his eyes upon hearing the news.

_ ‘Nan i ‘aear ah in elin.  _ ’ Pinching the bridge of his nose, Thranduil attempted to push back the headache threatening to overcome him. ‘Are you  _ certain  _ ?’ He asked, his voice coming out in a nasal manner, eyes squeezed shut.

Dignity be damned, pinching his nose is alleviating some of his stress.

‘Would you call me a liar, Your Majesty?’ Celephiel’s voice broke through, her voice was laced with amusement and playfulness. ‘Because I promise you I had seen the  _ fëa  _ of the infant.’

Opening his eyes to look at the  _ elleth _ , Thranduil grimaced apologetically. 

‘I mean no offense, Celephiel.’ He assured the healer, his hand going up in an appealing gesture. ‘It is simply that…’

Thranduil drifted off and looked at the halfling that lay prone before them. Shaking his head, he gestured vaguely at the comatose halfling.

‘After  _ everything  _ that happened?’ He started at last, grimacing at how his words sounded once spoken aloud. ‘I am simply…befuddled at how he managed through these circumstances…’

Legolas shot his father a disbelieving look and Thranduil gave an apologetic grimace to his son.

King though he may be, his words were not always of silver make.

Celephiel however only exchanged glances with his son before she blew out a breath to get a lock of gold blonde hair away from her face.

‘Everything that had happened during their Quest may have put both him and the child at a  _ bit  _ of a risk, Your Majesty.’ The healer said, her tone hesitant. ‘I would consider Legolas’ rescue of him to be a gift from the Valar themselves as I had been able to keep him stable due to the Prince’s decision to take him here.’

Rubbing his face, Thranduil sighed. He then turned to look at his son who looked concerned for the halfling.

‘What would the likelihood be of that danger for his wellbeing rising if he was to be exposed to loudly concerned dwarves?’ 

Granted, Thranduil still may not summon them even if it was safe as the Company of Thorin Oakenshield had been too rude in his halls that he’d rather not have to interact with them if he could help it.

But he could at least write them a missive regarding their halfling’s wellbeing.

‘I would advise against it, Your Majesty.’ Celephiel broke in, her tone brooking no arguments. ‘I had been present at the hobbit’s banishment as had you and all armies been. I am certain we all had seen the horrors he had had to go through. I would rather he avoid such stresses until he is in a more stable mindset and environment.’

Thranduil was silent.

‘ _ Ada  _ …’ His son began, his tone almost pleading. ‘Perhaps we can-’

The rustling of the tent flaps sounded the arrival of another among them and Thranduil moved to stand before the cot, his posture adopting a protective stance before his body slackened upon recognising who had come.

Two elves stood before him, one with auburn hair and the other with hair dark as the earth of the forest floor. Blood spattered their armour and the auburn-haired  _ elleth  _ had a gash running down her forehead to her neck while the earth-haired  _ ellon  _ had scratches from what he believed to be the bats from Dol Guldur.

It was the captains he had sent to rescue the Sons of Durin.

‘Captain Gilrendis, Captain Feren.’ He breathed out, nodding towards both of the captains that stood before him. 

Turning to face his son, Thranduil clapped a hand on Legolas’ shoulder. ‘We will continue this discussion later _ , ionneg.  _ But know your decisions are given my full support as long as it is in  _ his  _ best interest.’

Though his son did not respond in words, Thranduil smiled when Legolas threw his arms around his neck. Returning the gesture for a brief moment, Thranduil pulled away from the embrace and excused himself before ushering the two captains out of his tent.

‘How goes the mission I gave you?’ Asked Thranduil at last, his tone commanding and stern. ‘How do the Sons of Durin fare?’

Gilrendis and Feren exchanged looks before Gilrendis spoke.

‘We had managed to slay the Defiler and his spawn, Your Majesty.’ Was the confident reply. Thranduil smiled wryly, he never doubted Gilrendis’ skill with an arrow nor Feren’s ferocious battle skills. 

However, the uncomfortable expression Feren wore concerned him and made the Elvenking’s smile vanish.

‘Unfortunately, the Sons of Durin are currently demanding our aid once more.’

Thranduil frowned and crossed his arms. ‘And what aid is it they seek from us?’

Gilrendis looked back at the tent where his son, Celephiel and the halfling was residing in. Already the Elvenking knew who it was the dwarves seek and a coil of dread and an almost paternal protectiveness curled itself in the pit of his stomach.

‘Your Majesty, they demand help in finding the halfling of their company, Bilbo Baggins.’


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some notes before you read this chapter:  
> -Thranduil was in a polyamorous marriage. His wife was killed in a dragon attack while his husband )a healer)) survived but is less inclined to appear in formal court sessions as he focuses more on the people. He usually accompanies different troops during their spider hunts in case anyone is injured
> 
> I think that's just about it aside from mourning Woodland Realm, but beyond that, I think that's all you need to know!

At first, when he came to, Bilbo could recall nothing.

He didn’t open his eyes.

He didn’t make to move from what he could feel was a very comfortable cot.

He didn’t make a sound.

Panic laced the edges of his mind that he had a feeling was connected to him waking up inside an unfamiliar location.

And still, Bilbo continued to feign sleep.

Because he didn’t know if he was ready to face the world. As he kept still, he was aware of the rustling of fabric, murmured voices that seemed to be from Big People since their voices were farther up from where he laid and all he could do was try to listen. He caught words of “Oakenshield”, “gems”, a “sickness”, “protect” and other words as the words filtered in and out of his hearing. For a few moments, Bilbo was confused as to what these folks meant when they spoke but he managed to maintain the sleeping façade he had managed to keep up for a fair while.

It wasn’t until he heard “Arkenstone” that everything flooded back into the hobbit’s memory. 

The day Gandalf brought up adventures and seeing the world beyond his home.

The unexpected arrival of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.

Meeting Thorin Oakenshield. And disliking him the moment he opened his mouth.

The chase to catch up with them.

The trolls and their rest in Rivendell that followed.

Thorin speaking to him of caves and fireflies while Bilbo spoke of his youthful adventures in the Shire.

The stone giants.

Goblin-town.

Azog.

Thorin embracing him tightly on the Carrock and whispering his thanks repeatedly before pulling away.

Beorn’s Halls and Bilbo revealing to the Company how Hobbitish hierarchies went when his birthday was and other such information.

The Company telling him what dwarvish information they could get away with telling.

Thorin pulling him aside to wish him well for his coming birthday.

Mirkwood.

The barrels.

Thorin finding Bilbo half-drowned and feverish and all Bilbo could recall was how warm Thorin was and how tightly the dwarf king held him to his chest.

Laketown.

The Company taking care of him while he was ill.

Thorin sitting by his side the whole time, muttering prayers in Khuzdul as he held Bilbo’s hand.

Bilbo recovering and being surprised by an impromptu birthday feast that - surprisingly - Dori, Nori and Glóin had cooked.

Thorin coming into his rooms that evening and confessing his feelings for the hobbit. Bilbo returning the sentiment as he pressed his forehead against Thorin’s.

What happened shortly after.

Their trip to the Lonely Mountain.

Smaug and the attack on Laketown.

The Goldsickness.

His banishment...

His breath sped up and tears burned his eyes as he forced himself to sit up, ignoring the nausea and giddiness he felt the moment he rose to sit. Pressing the heel of his hands against his eyes, Bilbo tried to stifle the whimpers that poured forth from his lips. No tears had spilt yet but he knew that one thing would be enough to tip that scale.

‘Master Baggins…?’ And that was the tipping point.

A soft, gently spoken youthful voice tinged with deep concern was all Bilbo needed to hear for him to break down sobbing. Then he felt a warm hand upon his back and the youthful voice began speaking in quiet and soothing tones that seemed to be spoken in an alien tongue. Bilbo whimpered as he tried to stop his sobs but just as he is calming down, Bibo’s tears would begin anew and he would be back to trying to fight for his breath in between hiccuping sobs.

‘H-He had banished me.’ Bilbo heard his voice, rasped and broken apart as he sobbed harder. ‘For a blasted  _ rock _ !’

Whoever was comforting him made a distressed noise and feeling larger hands grasp his wrist and gently pull his hands away from his eyes. When Bilbo looked at whoever was offering him companionship, he saw pale grey eyes shining with compassion, hair pale as sunlight braided into a crown on his head and flecks of blood staining his face.

Yet Bilbo could only recognise him from the Elvenking’s Halls.

He was the one that had kissed the Elvenking’s bejewelled fingers before walking away from the throne room that Bilbo had seen his dwarrows were taken.

‘You are the elf prince.’ Bilbo heard his voice but he did not feel as if he was the one that had spoken. He felt deeply detached from what he was experiencing and he supposed the elf had seen it for he had proceeded to pull him closer.

‘Please, call me Legolas.’ The elf prince answered, awkwardly bowing his head at Bilbo before looking away. ‘It is good to see you awake, Master Baggins.’

Bilbo felt himself flinch as he heard the title.

All he could keep in mind when thinking of that moniker was how Thorin would call him such with the respect he had worked so hard to earn. The respect he now lost.

‘I’m still banished…aren't I.’ Bilbo didn’t know whether he wanted to phrase this more as a question or a statement, but looking at Legolas’ expression answered his thoughts.

‘Oakenshield had not released any statement recanting your banishment.’ 

Bilbo did not know what hurt more. Knowing that Thorin will never forgive him for that act of betrayal. Or the genuine remorse and pain that this elf prince expressed at having to deliver such news to him. His movements were more out of muscle memory, a mimicking of his movements but there was less life and any sense of realness to him as he awkwardly patted the elf prince.

‘I suppose, I shouldn’t have expected any different, hmm?’ Bilbo knew his voice sounded like he was near tears, feigning that he was alright and he was. But he took in an unsteady breath and shook his head. ‘Now I’m no longer needed, I think I should begin my journey home soon.’

A look of alarm crossed Legolas’ expression the moment Bilbo mentioned going home. It was only a fleeting moment but Bilbo could have sworn the elf prince looked just about ready to object but he only pressed his lips tightly together and brought slender fingers to his lips as if to keep himself quiet. Closing his eyes for but a short while, Legolas exhaled through his nose before nodding.

‘Not during the winter.’ He said, at last, his tone was careful. ‘The passes would be closed and you cannot go through the Woodland Realm alone.’

‘Then why can’t I ask for someone to come with me?’ Bilbo asked, his brows knitting together in confusion. ‘We’re going to go through the same paths, surely!’

At that, the elf prince shook his head. ‘The battle took many lives, Master Baggins.’ He started, his gaze flitting to the far side of the tent as if seeking an answer within it. ‘My fathers had already begun their mourning for every soldier lost, the rest of the kingdom is following in that mourning.’ Wringing his hands together for a moment, the elf prince huffed. ‘We cannot permit anyone to journey through the forest without a proper escort but...our mourning would often be around forty days and by then, winter would have set in completely.’

‘Oh…’ Bilbo would have been very upset by such news as he did not want to loiter in any place he was not wanted. But he saw how genuinely contrite the elf prince was and he sighed. ‘I suppose there’s nothing to do about it.’ Rubbing his face, Bilbo tried to think of another solution to his predicament when Legolas piped up with a suggestion of his own.

‘You know, Master Baggins…’ He started carefully, ‘My  _ edair  _ would be happy to house you for the winter…’

Bilbo was silent for a moment before he shook his head. ‘I can’t impose-’

‘And yet, we insist.’ A baritone cut in, causing Bilbo to nearly jump. 

Legolas, however, only brightened up. When Bilbo looked at the newcomer, he found that the elf that had come in was a stranger to him. He was not the Elvenking for he had hair black as night and he can’t be any common soldier because of the rich fabric he wore. But even then, he was a native of the Woodland Realm with the way he moved. Unsure of what to do, the hobbit kept quiet as the stranger approached him and knelt before him.

‘I suppose my son and husband had not told you of me.’ The elf had mused softly, a hand coming up to ruffle Legolas’ hair who whined before shoving the elf’s hand away. ‘I am the Elvenking’s consort, Glanduron. We have much to discuss, Master Baggins.’

Bilbo felt anxiety coil within him and it only grew further when the elf bade Legolas leave. Much to the hobbit’s surprise, he saw the elf prince throw his arms around the older elf who embraced him tightly before reaching up to wipe away the flecks of blood on the elf prince’s face.

Bilbo never exactly thought elves were capable of such open emotions.

Focusing on his companion, Glanduron smiled serenely and sat on the ground before him.

‘How much of your ancestry are you aware of, Master Baggins?’

* * *

Thranduil was sat before the King Under the Mountain, his hands folded neatly upon his lap. His nose wrinkled as he listened to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield’s shouts for the hobbit - perhaps that was a more respectful term for the halfling? - grow louder by the minute. Sighing, the Elvenking rose to leave, he had wasted enough time and his husband might have finally arrived from the Dale encampments that he might be sought for.

‘We haven’t spoken yet, elf-king.’ Came the rough voice of the mountain king.

Thranduil closed his eyes before sighing.

‘You have detained me long enough, Oakenshield.’ He stated simply. ‘My son and my people would be seeking my presence shortly. My Captains have reports to give me. My  _ husband _ had yet to see me hale and whole since the battle.’ Turning around, the Elvenking glared at the dwarf who lay prone on a sickbed. ‘Yet you demand me to stay. For what? More childish shouts? More bickering whilst I sit here, waiting to be acknowledged like a serf?’

Shocked silence filled the tent and the Elvenking felt a lack of remorse over the action. Let them despise him more than they already do. He wanted to see his family, he wanted to focus on his people and the hobbit they had hurt. He had no time to offer for gold-hungry dwarves.

‘Peace, Thranduil.’ The dwarf-king said at last, his hands raised in an appearing motion. ‘I am here to offer you the White Gems of your wife.’ 

Thranduil paused.

‘And what is your price for returning something that your grandfather had stolen many years ago?’ Asked Thranduil, eyes of frosted lakes narrowed in distrust at the dwarf.

Thorin Oakenshield grew silent as if hesitant to ask for his boon.

But he already knew what that boon was.

Meeting his gaze, Thorin spoke of his price.

‘Lend me your men. I must find the fourteenth member of my Company.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Edair- Fathers
> 
> And that's chapter two1 I'm sorry if it feels more like I'm doing exposition!! Next chapter though is when Bilbo learns about a certain something going on with him! Please don't hesitate to comment, I really enjoy reading them and will be replying to them shortly!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just want to thank you guys again for the continued support for this fic! I really, really appreciate it so much and I hope you keep supporting it as the story goes on! Also, uhhh I hope you enjoy more original elf characters cause you’ll meet more whether they’re to stay or just to be introduced in passing, you will get to meet them!

Thranduil was silent for a moment as he feigned thought over the offer the injured dwarf-king had given him.

‘So...you are offering to return to me the gems _my father_ had forged to gift _my wife_ on _our_ wedding day...for a price?’ Thranduil reiterated, emphasising parts he felt needed to be drilled into the dwarf’s mind for him to mull over. ‘Tell me, in what way is this bargain fair?’

Thorin Oakenshield closed his eyes before looking up at the tent’s ceiling as if asking for strength. Thranduil kept quiet for a good few seconds before deciding that he had waited long enough. He had no more time to waste and he needed to check in on his family and the hobbit. 

‘I must leave.’ The Elvenking said at last. Shaking his head, Thranduil made for the tent’s exit before pausing. ‘Keep Celairithil’s gift as a sign of our reforged alliance.’ Huffing out a mirthless laugh, Thranduil added, ‘Consider that my gift in the halfling hero’s name.’

He heard sharp intakes of breaths but Thranduil found no care within him as he walked out of the tent and toward his people’s encampment.

* * *

Bilbo didn’t know how long it had been since he had woken and he didn’t know how long it had been since the Elvenking’s consort had come in and told him quite a long tale featuring an old elf marrying a hobbit who started the Took clan. All the hobbit knew what that it had been a while and that he was growing hungry.

Fortunately, it seemed that Glanduron was not unaware of that and had called for an elf to bring some food for them to eat.

Two bowls of stew, a basket full of bread with some varying sauces for the bread to be dipped in, rice-based foods and other such foodstuffs were set before the two of them as Glanduron continued his tale. Every now and again, Legolas would waltz in, take one of the foodstuffs set down and practically run back out as his father chased him. 

When Glanduron finished, Bilbo still felt like he needed to be able to fully understand what it was the consort had just said.

‘So...you mean to tell me that my Took ancestor married an elf.’ Bilbo said, accepting the loaf of bread and bowl of stew Glanduron handed over to him.

‘Yes.’

‘One that came all the way from this ancient land of yours that is very important to your people.’ 

‘No. More of the ancient land of my _husband’s_ kin. Mine are considered less...enlightened, shall we say?’

Bilbo furrowed his brows before shaking his head and continuing. 

‘Alright, then the elf king-’ ‘Elvenking’ ‘-and his kin’s ancestor met, fell in love with and _married my ancestor_?’ Bilbo finished, looking at the dark-haired elf for confirmation.

Glanduron nodded, his expression conveying no lie whatsoever. ‘I do believe that he was one of the survivors of the Kinslayings but Thranduil never did have the pleasure to speak with him.’ At that, the Elvenking’s consort looked at Bilbo and tilted his head slightly, ‘Do continue with your findings, Master Baggins.’ 

Sighing, Bilbo continued. ‘And that Took ancestor of mine, got the elf pregnant which started the Took Oddity.’ Bilbo finished simply. 

He knew Glanduron had told him more than just that but Bilbo felt it easier to condense it in such a manner that he just looked at the elf unrepentantly. But, again, Glanduron only nodded,

‘Elves, regardless of gender, can carry children. Thranduil bore Legolas for him and Celairithil, our wife. That same thing took place with your ancestor and his husband.’ Glanduron explained, his tone was like that of a parent explaining an awkward situation to a child.

Bilbo supposed that that logic was applicable to him seeing as elves were immortal, after all. He must be nothing more than a toddler to the consort if the hobbit were to think of it.

‘Alright, I understand all these,’ Bilbo said with a slight nod. ‘but I don’t see why you’re telling me this.’

The expression on Glanduron’s face made a feeling of dread and anxiety coil within the pit of Bilbo’s stomach.

It was one that Bilbo had seen when a hobbitlass was being told of news she wasn’t expecting.

‘Master Baggins, you must understand-’ the consort began.

Bilbo shook his head and raised up a hand to stop him.

‘No.’ Bilbo said firmly, only the barest hint of a tremble held in his voice. ‘No, you see, I _haven’t_ slept with- well with anyone really.’ He said, his voice incredulous.

Glanduron only looked at him calmly.

‘ _Are_ you certain, Master Baggins?’ The elf prodded, his tone was calm. Eerily pale grey - almost white - eyes looked at him, waiting for him to reply.

Bilbo threw up his hands in frustration. ‘Yes! I had not had sexual intercourse with anyone! At least, not recently! If what you’re implying is true then that means I have to be-’

Bilbo stopped.

‘I-I have to be nearing a month now…’ Bilbo finished. His voice was no longer steady and fear had crept in as realisation dawned on him.

He had been feeling ill some time after his birthday and he had simply assumed that to be the effects of being on a boat and not having been given enough time before beginning to walk through the ruins of Dale. 

‘Oh Yavanna.’ 

He felt like he was going to retch.

Getting off of his cot as quickly as he could, Bilbo fell onto his hands and knees and expelled whatever he had managed to eat. Distantly, he was aware of his elf companion saying something harshly in his mother tongue - likely a curse - and this was followed by further shouts in that mothertongue. As he was throwing up, he felt a warm hand on his back begin rubbing it gently. He didn’t know how long it took for him to stop but he knew that when he did, he was being helped to stand by Glanduron who guided him back to the cot.

‘I’m sorry-’

‘There is nothing to apologise for.’ The elf said simply as he handed Bilbo some bread. Though he was hesitant to do so, Bilbo took the food and nibbled on the bread.

The two had lapsed into silence for some time until Bilbo broke it once more. 

‘I suppose it is good then that your passes would not be permitting anyone to travel.’ He mumbled, eyes glazed as he thought over the revelation told to him. ‘I can’t show my face to the Shire. Not with...my condition.’

‘I truly am sorry you feel as if you had lost the right to your own home.’ Glanduron said, a hand coming up to rest on Bilbo’s shoulder. ‘I know my home is poor substitution but know we will do what we can to ensure you feel welcome.’

Bilbo was silent for a long while before numbly nodding his head.

‘It’s not as if I have much of a choice.’ The hobbit said with a weak smile. ‘I mean, kind as Bard is, I-I’m not quite sure how a town of Men would take the news of a pregnant _male_ hobbit waddling about their territory.’

Bilbo took in a trembling breath. ‘And as for the dwarves...well, I’m hardly welcome now, am I?’ Bilbo asked with an unsteady laugh.

Glanduron was silent for a moment.

‘Let us wait for my husband to return, perhaps we could glean the disposition of your dwarves for you once Thranduil tells us what Oakenshield had summoned him for.’

Bilbo pressed his lips together before he shook his head. Thinking of Thorin brought him both good memories and the worst of them. Thoughts of the Company made Bilbo feel conflicting things as well and though he would love nothing more than to see them once more, he felt fear in that possibility that he did not want to dwell on such possibilities.

‘Ah...no, I don’t think that would make any difference right now.’ Bilbo stuttered out hurriedly, he didn’t understand why he felt so ill at the thought of being confronted by ones he learned to see as his family. ‘I think it’s best if they don’t even know I’m here.’

Glanduron looked at him dubiously but to the hobbit’s relief, the elf said nothing more on the subject and instead took to clearing up the food they had been eating.

‘In that case, I don’t suppose you would want to bid them farewell in three days’ time?’ The Elvenking’s consort asked calmly. Bilbo shook his head. Much as he desired to see them, he didn’t think he would be able to cope with anything that might overwhelm him further than he already was.

Nodding, Glanduron sighed. ‘Though it is not my responsibility to do this, I will consult with the Captains of the army and ask for guards for you just so you would not have to come across the dwarves in any moment.’

Bilbo wanted to protest about such an idea. Him? Require guards? Grandmother Baggins would think he was putting on airs! But as he was about to make such a protest, Glanduron gave him a look that his father used to give him when the two were negotiating over something and Bilbo was given a term that is non-negotiable whatsoever.

Sighing, Bilbo conceded.

‘At least, make it so that I could get along with them?’ Bilbo added,

Smiling, Glanduron nodded. ‘I shall endeavour to find agreeable guards to assign to you.’

With everything cleared up once more, Glanduron made to leave the tent with the leftovers in his arms. Casting a careful look at Bilbo, the elf smiled slightly though it was not with that gentle warmth of before so much as a melancholic care that he had not seen since his parents passed and an aunt came in to care for him when he fell into a catatonic state.

But somehow, Glanduron’s gaze was infused with more care and affection than that distant relative of his.

‘Get some rest, Master Baggins. I will wake you for dinner if you are still asleep by then.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and as always, please don’t hesitate in commenting as they always motivate me to keep writing more! I appreciate all of you so so much!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So surprise we got another update! We get more moments with elves here and I hope you guys like this!

When Bilbo woke again, he was already aware of all the voices that filled the tent. After all, both were the voices of elves he had spoken to in the recent past. 

‘He worries me, Thranduil.’ The unmistakable baritone of Glanduron was the first thing that Bilbo heard as he woke, ‘He is hurting far too much. I saw his eyes and I saw his _fëa_ , there is much darkness tainting what is meant to be a soul clear from such heartache.’

‘Is it truly a surprise, Glanduron? The one he had pledged his heart to, the one whose soul he had bound himself to, had banished him and harmed him in irreparable ways. I would not be surprised if Master Baggins were to fall into a deep melancholy.’

‘That heartache I saw was not borne from current events, _melleth_ .’ Glanduron replied softly, ‘It is one that had happened through many years of strife and conflict. I worry for him because of _that_.’

The Elvenking was silent before he responded with the tone of one who had weighed his words carefully.

‘I’m afraid there is little we are capable of doing, _silef nin._ Unless we are capable of forcing the tale of Master Baggins’ past from his very lips, we can do very little for that pain in him.’ Glanduron only responded with a sigh which caused Thranduil to continue what was on his mind. ‘Remember how we both coped when we lost Celairithil?’

‘Yes. You would wake up sobbing and I was a ghost of that laughing elf in our youths.’ There was a bittersweet tone to Glanduron’s voice as he spoke. ‘But we had our people who mourned with us and we had our son to tell tales of _her_ to. We had a _family_ to help us through the storms of our emotions.’

‘What little we could say without feeling that piercing grief.’ Thranduil agreed, his tone quiet. ‘Perhaps that is what Master Baggins would need.’ The Elvenking pondered, ‘A family to help him through this. Not the dwarves, but a family that could be able to understand him properly.’

‘ _Thranduil_.’ Glanduron said warningly. ‘Your words may come across as insulting. I am certain the dwarves-’

‘They understand Bilbo Baggins, their _Master Burglar_.’ Thranduil interjected. ‘Do they understand Bilbo Baggins who was hurting? Bilbo Baggins who missed simple comforts in nature? Look me in the eyes and tell me so, Glanduron for it is something I wish to believe as well.’

Glanduron did not respond.

Feeling as if he had eavesdropped too much, Bilbo sighed and made a noise to alert the two elves that he was awake. He heard the quick shifting of fabrics and as Bilbo sat up, he was surprised to see the Elvenking and his consort curled up on two cots pushed together. It was stationed in front of Bilbo’s own cot and at the far end of the tent was Legolas who was curled up and buried under heavy cloaks, clearly asleep,

‘Master Baggins,’ The Elvenking greeted, nodding to him. ‘How do you fare?’

Bilbo was silent for a moment. Before this moment, Bilbo’s only interaction with the elf king was when he brought the Arkenstone for him and Bard to bargain with the following day. And though Bilbo liked to think he was a good judge of character, the sight of the Elvenking the night prior gave him a cold, selfish impression which was a stark contrast from the elf that was dressed in a plain white tunic that appeared to be made of cotton who was curled up with his husband resting his head on his chest, his hair braided into twin braids and a book gently held in delicate hands. It was a jarring comparison to make that Bilbo found his voice lost for a while.

‘Master Baggins.’ The Elvenking repeated, his tone holding concern.

‘Oh, ah… yes. I’m quite-quite alright, actually.’ Bilbo managed to stop himself from asking after the elf king’s wellbeing out of sheer habit. Instead, Bilbo took to asking the first concern he had when he woke to see the Elvenking and his consort curled up together.

‘This...this isn’t a common tent...is it?’ 

An amused smile graced the Elvenking’s lips. The smile made him look younger and less stern and distant. There was a similar playfulness in his eyes that was exactly like Legolas’ but there was also a tiredness in those eyes the more Bilbo looked at the elf king.

‘You are in the royal family’s tent.’ Thranduil said simply, setting his book aside. ‘I hope that does not give you cause to be uncomfortable.’ 

Bilbo was silent for a moment. Much to his surprise, he didn’t feel that anxious coil at the thought of having to share a tent with Mirkwood’s royal family. It was only the thought of the Elvenking speaking to him that made him anxious but it was not an overwhelming feeling as he normally would have felt with others he desired to be left alone by. Like Lobelia.

‘I’m fine.’ Bilbo answered.

An awkward silence followed. It wasn’t as if Bilbo was going out of his way to make it awkward for the elf king but the hobbit just truly didn’t have anything more to say to him. And from the expression on Thranduil’s face, Bilbo had a feeling he had some things to tell him but found he didn’t know the right words. As any proper hobbit, Bilbo didn’t pry and kept his silence.

‘Are you feeling hungry, Master Baggins?’ Glanduron asked at last. ‘We had not had dinner yet and I was planning on walking around the encampment to see how the soldiers are faring.’

‘Would-would you mind if I come along?’ Bilbo asked hurriedly getting off his cot.

Glanduron nodded. ‘Well, I see no harm in that seeing as no dwarves are within our encampments.’ Pausing, the Elvenking’s Consort turned to face his husband and tilted his head. ‘Is it safe to assume that your meeting with the captains will be held here?’ 

Thranduil sighed and stood up.

‘Unfortunately not. I will have to go to the officers’ tent to discuss it with them.’

‘Alright then. Just make sure you and Legolas eat something.’ With that, Glanduron led Bilbo outside.

* * *

Bilbo wasn’t sure what to expect of an elf encampment. Perhaps he was expecting that same distant and cold camp that he had seen when he had committed his greatest betrayal. But the more he thought of it, the more he recalled that the encampment set up there was the camp the elves had set up for the Men before they went off to build their own. As Bilbo walked around, he caught sight of some elves huddled together, sharing capes, he glimpsed at two elves dancing in front of a campfire, clearly entertaining their comrades while three of the soldiers watching were singing. Two other elven soldiers were leaning against one another, sleeping.

‘You all seem so... _human_.’ Bilbo breathed out as he caught sight of a young-looking she-elf being given a piece of bread by a sandy-haired elf seated beside her. ‘It’s a far cry from what I saw in Mirkwood.’ The hobbit finally admitted.

Glanduron hummed in thought before he let out a soft breath. ‘That’s because those are our soldiers when they are on-duty, taking in trespassers and keeping our forest safe.’ the elf smiled at a passing soldier before guiding Bilbo to a large bonfire where various foodstuffs had been laid out and was being passed around. ‘We tend to act quite differently when we are no longer doing our duty.’

Guiding Bilbo to an unoccupied area, he settled the hobbit there and went to ask a nearby soldier for food to be brought to them. Seating himself down, Glanduron turned to face the nearest elf to him and greeted them.

‘Celephiel, I did not expect to see you outside of the healing tents so soon.’

The pale-haired elf lady smiled blandly before shrugging. ‘I have to eat sometime, Glanduron.’ She responded, raising a wooden bowl filled with broth at him as a salute of sorts. ‘I will be checking on the patients later, though.’ 

Glanduron sighed and shook his head. ‘Go to the healers’ tents and sleep. Let the others who hadn’t tended in awhile do the duty we brought them here for.’ The Elvenking’s consort said before looking at Bilbo. Gesturing for the hobbit to sit a bit closer, Glanduron smiled and nodded to the lady elf.

‘Master Baggins, meet Celephiel. She was the healer Legolas had summoned to tend to you.’ Glanduron explained as he accepted bowls of stew and bread from the soldier he had spoken to earlier.

Smiling awkwardly at the lady elf, Bilbo almost made to offer her his hand to shake before awkwardly pulling his hand back. 

‘Ah-uhm… thank you for that.’ Clearing his throat, Bilbo accepted the bowl of stew and bread Glanduron had offered and looked down. 

That was until he saw a pale hand held out to him. Dark grey eyes shone with eagerness and Celephiel nodded encouragingly to him. Though he was hesitant, Bilbo took the elf woman’s hand and shook it before letting go. He saw a delighted expression in her eyes before she resumed drinking her broth. Focusing on his meal, Bilbo appreciated the silence that reigned over Celephiel, Glanduron and him as he did not feel like speaking with them until he was done eating. When they were done with their meal, Celephiel sighed.

‘Though I know we will be giving grim news to the families of our late soldiers, I will say I cannot wait to get home. Broth, cram and stews are never enjoyable.’ She admitted.

Glanduron chuckled. ‘Well, the wine makes it a bit more acceptable, I think.’

‘If it’s any comfort, this at least has more substance than what the Company and I had eaten.’ Bilbo commented. He meant nothing malicious in this as he had always appreciated the hunting efforts of the dwarves. But he would not lie that their provisions were always teetering in a dangerous manner most of the time.

‘Well, when we get back home there will be more food that would sustain you and your child.’ Glanduron replied. ‘I do think you would enjoy our homes.’

Bilbo paused before wrinkling his nose. He had no desire to offend his hosts, but their home was in no way desirable. Especially for a hobbit who had seen greenery all his life. Bilbo supposed that Glanduron had managed to discern his thoughts and the elf only smiled patiently.

‘You will see what I mean when we get there.’ He assured Bilbo before he handed his bowl to Celephiel and rising. ‘Come, Master Baggins.’

‘Bilbo.’

Glanduron paused, his pale eyes widening at what Bilbo had said. Bilbo nervously cleared his throat. He did not know if it was offensive to their culture, but Bilbo still pressed on.

‘I think you had seen me through enough to deserve to call me by my first name, don’t you?’ Bilbo explained, trying to make himself sound nonchalant but failing and sounding anxious once more.

Glanduron smiled and nodded. ‘So be it, Bilbo.’ He corrected himself. ‘Come along, I do believe it is time to introduce you to your guards and their Captain.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Fëa - Spirit/Soul  
> Melleth - Love  
> Silef nin - My White Crystal
> 
> I don’t really enjoy making elves these distant, ethereal beings so much as making them as human as I could while still making them seem to have a difference from humans. So the glimpses of other elven soldiers doing various things are my attempt at that. Now, next chapter we're getting some more dwarves and Thranduil is most likely just very tired! Oh and don’t worry, I’ll be introducing the guards assigned to Bilbo!
> 
> As always, I hope you guys like this! And please, don’t hesitate to comment on this since it helps drive me to post more!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there guys! I just want to thank you all for your continued support for Love Beyond All Fear! So just a heads up but after the next chapter we're gonna be going straight onto Bilbo's departure. Now I won’t be spoiling anything but I do hope you’ll be looking forward to that!

Thranduil had ended his meeting with his captains and had apologised for intruding on what rest they were trying to get in their tents. Though he knew it was always a necessity to have their reports from them, Thranduil never found it polite to enter their tent on most occasions. Then again, the Elvenking never needed to enter their homes and ask for reports, so that might be the reason why he felt uncomfortable at such action as he did. With that done, Thranduil returned to his own tent to wake his son. 

Waking Legolas always had mixed results. Sometimes, his son would wake swiftly and have the same disposition as Leraglandir - an unholy morning person prone to song and dance at the early hours - and sometimes he would refuse to wake and burrow himself further under his furs and blankets. That, Thranduil blamed entirely on his husband due to their mannerisms mimicking one another too much in that aspect. Gently shaking his son’s shoulder, Legolas only made a disagreeable noise and buried himself further in the cloaks they had used as a blanket for him. Thranduil felt his lips twitch up in amusement before he sighed.

‘Legolas, it is time for you to eat something.’ He chided his son as he peeled the cloaks away from Legolas.

The younger  _ ellon _ proceeded to open one eye before groaning and closing it once more. 

‘Five more minutes.’ Legolas mumbled as he turned away from Thranduil. The Elvenking sighed and shook his head.

Making a decision, the Elvenking reached over and picked his son up in his arms and cradled him as he had in his son’s youth. The action was enough to jar Legolas awake who immediately proceeded to protest to being carried. Thranduil chuckled and continued to walk out of the tent before setting the boy down who was now just looking at him, clearly upset. Thranduil raised a brow at his son before gesturing for him to join the others.

‘Go. Your  _ Adar _ will not be pleased if you miss dinner.’ 

With a huff, Legolas walked off. Shaking his head, Thranduil began walking away from his encampment, wanting to hear silence for even a moment. Knowing Legolas, once he had eaten he would be more amiable to the world. Unfortunately for him and Glanduron, that would mean he would be awake the entire night doing Elbereth only knew what.

The farther he got from his camp, the more blank his mind became. There were moments where he needed silence, a mind that was not constantly overrun with worries and fear for his people. A heart not aching for his late wife and father, missing his brothers’ presences in the Woodland Realm, weary of being perceived as a callous, cold-hearted king or leader to an uncivilised, wild or feral people. All preconceptions, all anxieties and fears, sometimes, he wished to be left alone by such sensations and to simply be Thranduil. He often just needed a few moments alone, after all.

‘I did not expect to see you here.’ 

Thranduil closed his eyes, brows knitting together in frustration. The Elvenking took a steadying breath before turning to face the dwarf king who stood behind him, a cane of polished wood held in his dominant hand. The Elvenking felt his jaw clench in disdain at the sight, his lips curling into a sneer as soon as proud eyes of blue met his gaze.

‘Oakenshield.’

* * *

Thorin was ordered to be on bed rest for at least a week.

Though his injuries were nothing serious, it still incapacitated him enough that he was required to stay in bed for a fair while. But Thorin knew he had far too much duties to deal with now that the battle was over and done with and though he loathed the thought, he also had alliances to forge. He had to make up with Thranduil so he could gain permission to have passage granted to all passing Ereborean merchants and for the coming caravans of anyone who would want to move to Erebor, he would have to offer aid to Bard so he would have another trading post set, he would have to begin diplomatic missions to various kingdoms in Arda and...he also had one personal yet very important mission he had set for himself.

He had one hobbit he needed to see once more. One hobbit he had wronged so horribly that he had to seek forgiveness from him.

Surely...surely Bilbo would understand that it was not completely his fault that he had done what he did? It was a sickness of the mind, a sickness that ran in his family’s blood. That his sister-sons were fortunate enough not to have inherited. Surely Bilbo would be able to forgive him seeing as Thorin loved him and he would never consciously do such a thing to him.

With those thoughts and worries swimming in the dwarf king’s mind, Thorin pushed himself up and off his sickbed and took the cane Óin had left for him to use when he was well enough to walk. Though the pain was enough to make him double over, Thorin forced himself to continue walking. He did not know where he was headed, but he felt he may as well try to walk away from thoughts of alliances with Mirkwood or the people of the lake and simply try to plan a way to woo the hobbit he had proclaimed his love to.

However, as he made a conscious decision to head for the lake, Thorin noticed a lone figure standing tall as he looked towards the water. Thorin felt his jaw clench. After the show Thranduil had done in his healing tent, Thorin felt himself to be less inclined to courtesy to one who threw his peace offering back at his face. But still, he knew he needed all the help he could get just to find Bilbo again. Dáin had been kind enough to lend his men to him and had even promised to keep an eye out for the hobbit in case Bilbo had not yet started west. More aid, especially coming from the _almighty_ _elves_ that Eru had created would be a boon that would end the search only in a matter of moments. Gathering what politeness he could scrounge up, he approached Thranduil and called out to him in a neutral greeting.

The flash of anger in his commonly expressionless face made Thorin bite back a comment asking about the foulness of his forest affecting his demeanour.

‘What brings you to this place?’ He instead asked.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes before he looked away and towards the lake once more. 

‘Nothing that concerns you.’ Thranduil clasped his hands behind his back. ‘Though I must say, I was not expecting to see you wandering away from your people so soon.’

‘You refused to aid me once more, elf-king.’ Thorin ignored whatever it was Thranduil had said and spoke accusatorily to the elf. ‘First, you abandoned Erebor, your  _ ally _ and now, you insult my attempt at making peace with you-’

‘I will  _ not _ have this discussion with you once more, Thráinul.’ Thranduil snapped, his voice a knife cutting through his own. ‘I do not have the time nor patience to beg for my own wife’s belongings. Peace offerings are not something to be given for you to gain something in return, what you seek is to buy off the safety of one who clearly no longer seeks to see you through my people’s aid and I will  _ not have it _ .’ The Elvenking hissed. ‘If you wish to find that halfling of yours, then I strongly advise you think of ways to amend what you had done else you will have found him for naught.’

Thorin scowled at the sheer arrogance of Thranduil’s words. The knowing tone he used as he spoke of a person he had barely even had a conversation with. As if he had every right to decide what it was Bilbo can and can’t do. 

‘You would  _ dare _ to presume that Bilbo would not listen and understand-’ the dwarf-king began, his voice a rumbling anger building within his very core.

That anger was snuffed out by the shock of the raised voice of the Elvenking.

‘Oh, I  _ dare _ to presume  _ plenty _ !’ As if realising he had done something unexpected, Thranduil paused and straightened his posture once more. There was still disdain in his eyes, clear as day, but he appeared more composed than before. ‘Never ask such a thing to me again, Oakenshield. Keep my wife’s gems, keep your tainted gold. My people are not to be bought by you for the purpose of finding a halfling that clearly has no desire to be found.’

Thorin was silent for a moment.

‘I do not believe Bilbo is hiding from me.’ He said at last, his tone still stubborn.

Thranduil was silent for a moment before he turned away and began walking back to his camp. And though Thorin was never certain if he truly heard it or not, he could have sworn the elf-king had spoken as he left.

‘On your head be it.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Ellon - Male elf  
> Adar- Father (formal)
> 
> I won’t lie, my favourite part was writing Thranduil being livid with Thorin. I hope you guys liked this chapter and please, as always, don’t hesitate to comment on this as that always motivates me more to keep writing!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Normally, I was planning on updating yesterday but since that didn't happen, here's the update! You guys get to meet the guards!

‘Bilbo, I would like you to meet your guards.’

After they had eaten their dinner, Bilbo was thinking that he might be led through the camp and to a group of elves. He didn’t know if he was to be relieved or mildly disappointed that he was led back to the royal tent and the guards were summoned by Glanduron along with their captain.

Standing before him were three male elves, one with sand brown hair, another with hair reminiscent of caramel and the last having a chestnut brown to his hair. They were standing straight with their hands behind their backs, each had a stoic expression that Bilbo expected of the elves. Behind the three men was a lady elf with auburn hair, her hair had been tied back into a single braid and she had a naturally stern expression on her face.

To his surprise, the captain addressed him.

‘Master Baggins, I am Gilrendis, Captain of the Woodland Realm’s army.’ She introduced herself with a stiff bow before gesturing to the three male elves. ‘These three are my best suited to protect you. They are Felfendir, Pedwegion and Miludîn, three elves who you may find to be among our most agreeable in regards to their friendly dispositions.’

Bilbo was silent as he looked at the elf with sand brown hair dubiously but made no comment on the captain’s words. They appeared to be far from the almost human appearance of all the other elves with their forbidding expressions. Gilrendis looked at Bilbo and bowed her head before excusing herself to Glanduron who waved her out afterwards.

‘If Pedwegion needs to be reined in, you can speak to Felfendir about it.’ Glanduron explained. ‘Felfendir can stop Pedwegion’s mouth from rattling off for too long, other than that the three are not troublesome whatsoever.’

Bilbo looked at the three elves who were standing at attention, none of them meeting his gaze or Glanduron’s. Their lips were pressed into tight lines that looked as if they did not smile and Bilbo felt unsure about how he could best approach them.

When Bilbo looked at Glanduron, he looked pleased as he looked at the three.

‘Shall I leave you four to get to know one another?’ Glanduron asked, his tone kind.

Bilbo wanted to ask the raven-haired elf to stay but he did not want to hurt any of his guards’ feelings. If what he had seen of the Mirkwood elves was who they truly were, then he may be wrong that they were not cold-hearted, distant beings.

‘I’m sure we could manage.’ Bilbo assured Glanduron.

Smiling, Glanduron nodded before leaving the tent.

Bilbo turned to face the guards who were still standing tall. Clearing his throat, Bilbo tried to think of a way to get them to loosen up. To be relaxed around him as he had seen the other elves who were resting from the battle.

‘You know, you don’t need to keep standing.’ He tried.

The three decided to sit cross-legged on the ground, the blades they had were placed neatly on their laps. Bilbo grimaced.

‘Right.’ Unsure what to say next, Bilbo looked at each of their faces and tried to place the names he was told to the respective elf. Realising this may be a good start, Bilbo gestured vaguely at the three of them. ‘Ah...I must say, your Captain wasn’t able to tell me which of you had which names and I do want to get to know you better.’ Bilbo started as he settled himself in front of them. ‘I was thinking, maybe you could each tell me your name, what you do, something you like perhaps?’ Bilbo felt like he was speaking to faunts when he said this. Especially when he saw how surprised the caramel-haired elf looked when the hobbit said this.

At first, it was like the three elven guards did not know what to say.

And then the elf with the sand brown hair spoke.

‘I am Felfendir, a soldier of the Woodland Realm’s army.’ The elf said, dipping his head into a slight nod. ‘I’m afraid I do not know what else to tell you. I am not the most interesting being in Arda.’

Bilbo nodded. He still seemed a bit detached but Bilbo noticed how his posture seemed the smallest bit relaxed. The next that spoke was the elf with caramel brown hair.

‘My name is Pedwegion. I am also part of the Woodland Realm’s army. Seeing as you asked what we enjoy doing, I enjoy reading and studying history.’ This one seemed to be eager to speak and yet, it was as if he remembered he was speaking that he pressed his lips together. ‘Apologies, I shall try to restrain myself in the future, Master Baggins.’

Bilbo frowned but chose to allow them to act the way they had. They seemed to be good lads with no ill intentions. Perhaps they were simply shy.

Turning to face the elf with chestnut hair, he noticed an uncomfortable expression on him.

‘I am Miludîn.’ He mumbled, his voice barely loud enough for Bilbo to hear. ‘I am a soldier but I used to prune trees for the outer orchards.’

Bilbo tilted his head when he heard that. He had never seen any such thing during his time in Mirkwood. Anything to indicate an orchard really.

‘Mirkwood...has an orchard?’ Bilbo asked carefully.

The one to respond was Pedwegion as Miludîn’s response to Bilbo’s inquiry was to duck his head and to clench the fabric of his trousers tightly.

‘Well, first off, it is the Woodland Realm. Calling it Mirkwood is an insult to our home as it was never named such and it is an insult to the late King, Oropher.’ The caramel-haired elf explained, his tone was even but there were hints of frustration in his tone as well. ‘And we used to have two sets of orchards. The outer orchard was the entirety of our forest where multiple elves of the Woodland Realm were given jobs to work there but ever since the taint had spread through the forest, we had lost the outer orchard.’

Bilbo apologised for misnaming the kingdom. Though he meant nothing malicious by it, Bilbo still did call it a name he had only heard through spiteful tones from his dwarves which he had immediately assumed to be the name of the kingdom. Though he did recall Gandalf calling the kingdom a different name. Even if Bilbo did not mean to insult the elves, he was still not going to excuse himself.

‘And the inner orchard?’ Bilbo asked instead. He did not recall seeing any hints of greenery where he was wandering in the palace.

Pedwegion pursed his lips before glancing at Felfendir who shrugged.

‘The inner orchards are deep within the Woodland Realm.’ He said finally. ‘You will see it when we return home.’

Bilbo nodded, looking down on his lap before he sighed.

‘I will confess, I don’t know what to expect from all this.’ He said quietly, his tone filled with the hurt that he was surprised to still feel. ‘I mean. I will literally have no home in the Shire, the only one I’ve loved seems to hate me for doing what I believed was right, I’m expecting a child out of wedlock-’

‘Not exactly.’ Felfendir interrupted Bilbo.

Bilbo looked at the elf with sand brown hair. Though he looked uncomfortable at speaking out of turn, Felfendir still spoke.

‘All elves consider the act of copulation to be our wedding act. Ceremonies are often just for show and so families could see the couple before the act itself takes place.’

‘Yes, well I’m not an elf.’ Bilbo replied, his lips drawn to a tight line.

‘I am well aware of that.’ Felfendir assured Bilbo, his tone almost holding an amused note. ‘But you do have elven blood in your veins. Our people do not mind divorced or separated single parents as much as the other elven realms seeing as King Oropher had separated from his wife amiably when they realised they might have rushed into their marriage with the folly of youth. That did not make their love for their sons any less, it was simply that they were better off friends than they were lovers.’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand what it is you’re saying.’ Bilbo furrowed his brows before shaking his head.

‘What I am saying is that for us elves, your child will be no bastard. Simply that you were hurt and are still healing from that hurt inflicted by your spouse whom you separated from. You will not lose a home but be offered a new one.’ Looking as if he was unsure, Felfendir laid a tentative hand on Bilbo’s shoulder and smiled an unsure smile as if expecting the hobbit to pull away from him. ‘You will lose no family but we would be happy to give you one. The Silvan elves may be wild, uncivilised, feral and far less enlightened than those of Lothlórien or Imladris but we still have hearts and it will be a bitter day for us all when we turn away those in need.’

Bilbo was silent as he looked at the elf that spoke kind words to him. He recalled the year he had spent travelling with the dwarves and all the difficulty he had gone through just to be accepted.

He recalled both Grandmothers Took and Baggins giving him one look and deciding he was too much of the other side to be worth anything.

He remembered loneliness and estrangement.

And tears slipped from eyes unused to beholding such kindness. Immediate kindness from those he had believed to be cruel and cold, distant like stars but holding none of their warmth. And Bilbo did not apologise for this. Nor did any of his guards treat him any less for it. Felfendir only came closer and wrapped him in an embrace, murmuring to him in his mother tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the thing about this is that I ended up thinking that maybe the Silvan elves of the Woodland Realm as a whole aren't given the kindest outlook by anyone. Not even the other elven kingdoms. Not helping that they're a bit isolationist which doesn't help the belief that they're lesser or more distant. Basically only the Men of Laketown know about the Silvan elves' true dispositions. I hope you guys like this though and as always, please don't hesitate to comment as that always motivates me to keep writing!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in a day! This is just to make up for not being able to upload yesterday but I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing this!

The three days passed swiftly for Bilbo.

He had followed Thranduil’s advice on keeping to the elven encampment. It wasn’t as if he was wanting for company as his guards would accompany him anywhere. Granted, they usually have rotations so he would only have one companion but Bilbo had no complaints. Felfendir was the one that had grown closer to him swiftly, having been the one to welcome him and speak softly to him but Bilbo had noted that neither Pedwegion nor Miludîn seemed to have any malicious disposition towards anyone. In those three days, Bilbo had seen how Legolas seemed to hate being woken by anyone unless it was during his own time, he had woken to see Thranduil speaking with his captains while his husband was asleep, embracing the Elvenking while consulting with his officers, he had caught sight of Glanduron and Celephiel entering and leaving the healing tents. Bilbo met different soldiers who were warm and friendly and playful in varying ways, some were reserved but still had an air of amiability to him that Bilbo felt safe with them. Granted, some had questions that had made him uncomfortable but they respected his answer when he said he did not wish to answer them.

Come the third day, he was woken by Miludîn and when he sat up, he caught sight of Legolas throwing bedsheets and pillows at Thranduil who was catching the items with ease but still scolding his son with little to no anger.

‘Time to eat, Master Baggins.’ His guard mumbled, handing him the wooden bowl full of oatmeal.

This was different from the usual breakfast he had had during the past three days. His guard smiled awkwardly before looking down, his lips pressing tightly together before he spoke.

‘The cooks were eager to get home that they decided to celebrate with oatmeal, milk and honey so as to give us all something sweet to partake in.’ Glanduron’s voice filtered in as if sensing Bilbo’s curiosity. ‘Legolas and the younger soldiers are beyond _ecstatic_ over this.’ At that, the elf-king’s consort’s eyes widened before he ducked as another pillow was thrown his way which was caught by Thranduil who had rushed to rescue his consort from the oncoming object.

‘Is he always like this?’ Bilbo asked, looking at Legolas who was cheerily folding the mattresses and buckling them to remain folded. ‘It’s just that...I don’t think I’ve _ever_ seen him like this in the past days.’

Thranduil huffed and set the pillow down on the pile he had amassed, his eyes falling on his son who had finished his task and was now dragging the bed things out while humming a tune.

‘I suppose he is simply eager to return home.’ The Elvenking remarked simply as he took the bedsheets and began folding them.

‘To be fair,’ Glanduron added in with a fond shake of his head. ‘We are all eager to return home.’ As if on mere instinct, Glanduron passed by Bilbo, a hand running through Bilbo’s copper curls absentmindedly before aiding his husband with folding the sheets.

Focusing on his breakfast, Bilbo noticed how Miludîn was only eating some bread. Frowning, Bilbo cleared his throat to gather the silent elf’s attention.

‘Have-have you eaten?’ He asked carefully. 

Miludîn looked surprised to have been addressed and he nodded.

‘Snack.’ He mumbled, awkwardly shaking the bread before returning to eating it.

Bilbo nodded before returning to his meal.

* * *

After Bilbo had eaten, he had been given some clothes to change to which he did. The past three days had surprised Bilbo as well with how swiftly an elf could work. Though Bilbo was not expecting the one to be doing the sewing and adjustments to be Thranduil or Legolas. Yet here he was, wearing clothes fashioned from extra tunics the Elvenking and his heir had. Glanduron had offered his own tunics to be adjusted which Thranduil took one extra tunic from him.

Bilbo had not seen the clothes he had worn during the battle since he had changed into the first set of clothes he was given.

And he did not want to ask to see it.

Bilbo had been shooed out of the royal tent when he had tried to help. Glanduron was the one who had done it in a manner that would almost rival Dori’s in terms of worrying over anyone he considered to be frail.

_“Out you go, Bilbo! I’ll not have a pregnant person having to lift a single finger if I can help it.” Glanduron said as he herded Bilbo out._

_Bilbo was about to protest when he caught sight of Thranduil who was shaking his head._

_“Best do as he says, Bilbo. Glanduron was almost exactly like this during my own pregnancy.” The Elvenking told him. “Though rest assured, this is a more collected version of his mother-henning.”_

Bilbo huffed in thought before he looked at Miludîn who was still on his shift. His hand was resting on his hilt in an almost relaxed fashion and he was looking around as if a threat might appear if he was not vigilant.

‘You know you don’t always have to be on guard.’ Bilbo stated as he began walking around. ‘I’d be glad of the company more than the silence.’

Miludîn didn’t respond until a minute had passed.

‘I’m sorry.’ The elf mumbled. ‘Speaking is not always easy for me.’

Bilbo nodded. That might explain it all. Patting Miludîn’s arm reassuringly, Bilbo instead asked if Miludîn might take him to wherever it was he could stay and wait for when everyone is ready to depart. Miludîn then proceeded to lead him to a cart where some elves were seated at. It didn’t take long for Bilbo to know this was where the severely injured elves were to be transported in. One of the elves had ash-blond hair and was missing a leg, a walking stick was held in his hands, his jaw clenched as he seemed to still be in shock of his current predicament.

‘The dwarves will not see you here.’ His guard explained, his eyes returning to scouting the area. ‘Best get on, we will be done in a short while.’

Bilbo nodded and got up on the cart with the help of his guard and he settled himself beside the ash-blond elf. Bilbo looked at the different elves there. There was one who had their leg wrapped in bandaged, another had half their face covered in bandages. Bilbo never thought he would see elves looking anything but perfect and yet there were the Silvans.

The Silvan elves that never seemed to stop surprising him.

‘ _Rhaich_!’ The harshness of the word his commonly quiet guard had said shocked Bilbo that he looked at Miludîn with wide eyes.

His guard turned to look at him before motioning for him to duck low.

When Bilbo still hadn’t done as he had been told, Miludîn hurriedly unclasped his cloak and threw it on Bilbo.

‘Stay low, Master Baggins.’ Miludîn hissed to him. ‘The dwarves are here.’

Bilbo felt his heart turn cold.

* * *

Thorin did not want to bid farewell to the elves.

Insulted as he was by Thranduil's refusal to aid him, he would rather they leave and he never have to see the cursed forest sprites. But Dáin and Balin had strong-armed him into attending the departure of the elves for the sake of diplomacy and civility. As a spontaneous - and slightly spiteful - decision, Thorin called the Company to him along with Tharkûn who had been trying to find Bilbo along with the recruits Thorin had managed to gather from both Dáin’s army and the Lake-folk. As they had arrived, Thorin sneered at all the cold looks that had been thrown his way as they walked through the crowds. Let the tree-shagging bastards stare, they will rue the day they refused to aid Erebor once more.

As they arrived to where Thranduil was saddling his steed, Thorin looked blankly at the white horse he was riding. 

‘Lost your deer, elf-king?’ He spat out.

He saw Thranduil’s shoulders tense for a moment before he resumed his task. Thorin scoffed.

‘I shall not be wasting my time for long here.’ He added as he turned to look if the Men of the lake had come to bid the elves farewell also.

‘Thorin, son of Thráin.’ Thorin turned and met the eerie gaze of Thranduil’s husband, his eyes seeming to reach his very soul and Thorin looked away. ‘I am surprised to see you here.’

‘It is merely for the courtesy of it.’ Thorin said, his tone terse.

The consort only bowed his head before looking at Thranduil and taking his hand and brushing his lips across the elf-king’s knuckles. Thorin looked away from the display of affection and caught sight of Tharkûn looking around the camp.

‘You all seem to be in a rush.’ The wizard commented as he focused upon Thranduil.

The elf-king shrugged slightly.

‘I believe we are all eager to return home after such a battle.’ Thranduil explained as he mounted the horse. ‘We have families to return to, wives and husbands who had lost their spouses who must be told, children to see.’

‘Not as if you elves have plenty.’ Dwalin muttered, causing an amused chuckle to ripple through the Company. Thorin smirked slightly before putting on a neutral expression.

‘We also must make haste for the sake of our injured.’ The Elvenking added before turning his mount away from Thorin.

The consort looked at them before bowing his head.

‘Many thanks for your presence in seeing us off.’ He murmured before turning to look at Balin. ‘Perhaps we can discuss some plans for a diplomatic visit soon? We would need to plan a treaty for our alliance.’ Balin nodded and followed the elf-king’s consort to discuss diplomatic matters.

Tharkûn, however, was approached by the elf princeling who bore a grim expression as he handed something to the wizard. It was wrapped in a red cloth and when Tharkûn looked at what was inside it, he looked up sharply. The elf prince only whispered something to the wizard before leaving.

Turning to face them, Tharkûn approached Thorin, the item the elf prince had given him held tightly in aged hands. Shaking, he held it out for Thorin to take which the dwarf king did but with spite in his heart as he believed it to be a gift from Mirkwood.

As he unwrapped the red cloth from it, he felt his heart begin to break.

‘Legolas told me Bilbo wanted you to have this back.’ The wizard explained, his tone gentle and sympathetic. Thorin wanted none of his sympathy. ‘He told Legolas that a thief and traitor does not deserve the gift of a hero who will be king.’

Thorin did not respond as he held the item of clothing close to his heart.

‘Uncle?’ He was aware of Fíli placing a hand on his back but Thorin did not speak. He gathered what strength he could find before looking at Dáin.

‘How fast are your riders?’ He rasped out.

‘Fast enough to catch a hobbit running alone with no mount.’ The dwarf lord replied, clapping a hand on Thorin’s shoulder. ‘We’ll get your One back, Thorin. I swear it on my father’s soul.’

Thorin only nodded and looked numbly back at the mithril shirt that glittered back at him as if taunting him of all he had lost in just a single day.

* * *

The Ereborean and Dalish delegations saw the Mirkwood delegation and army off at noon. Thorin was silent as he gazed at all of the horses that galloped away and the caravans that were covered by canvases where some soldiers were sat. Among those that passed was a cart were multiple injured elves were seated. As he looked at the passing cart, he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of copper curls hidden among the elves but when he made to look closer, one of the elves adjusted his seating and the hallucination was gone.

‘Thorin?’ Balin looked at him with concern. ‘What is it, laddie?’

Thorin shook his head.

‘Nothing. I just thought I saw… _him_.’

Squeezing his shoulder reassuringly, the older dwarrow smiled sadly at him.

‘We’ll find Bilbo again. He can't have gone far.’

Thorin did not answer and merely looked on, praying to Mahal that he would see his hobbit once more. There were far too many things he wished to tell him and there were too few words to express his regrets for his treatment of his One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Rhaich! - Curses!
> 
> And that’s that for this chapter! Next chapter will have the Woodland Realm being shown to Bilbo and maybe some dwarrows who might begin inquiries with anyone willing to answer them? Who knows! I do sincerely hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and as always! Comment on this as it really keeps me motivated to keep on writing!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Whew well, we got some stuff going on here. So we got some misunderstandings about to take place in Erebor, Bilbo arriving in the Woodland Realm and Thorin just trying to keep up hope he'll be able to make amends. Hope you like this chapter!

When Thorin and his group had returned to Erebor, he called Dáin to his study along with Balin. 

All the while, he still held the mithril shirt.

When Dáin arrived, it was as if his old friend had seen what he needed and he nodded.

‘My lad, Torsten, he has a company at the ready. Sixty of our best ram-riders will be scouring the different paths your hobbit might have gone through.’ Dáin told him as he turned to leave. ‘I’m about to leave with a company of my own, see what Mirkwood’s got to offer if they’ve got their passes open.’

Thorin nodded, his body trembling as he thought over more plans.

‘Thank you.’ 

Dáin chuckled.

‘Don’t thank me yet, Thorin.’ The dwarf lord responded. ‘For all we know, both our companies might miss that elusive burglar of yours.’

Thorin nodded before turning to face Balin.

‘Do you think we would have time to spare to send some of the Company to make inquiries around the Men’s encampments?’ 

His advisor was silent.

‘Thorin…’ Balin started, approaching the dwarven king. ‘Bilbo might not want to be found and we must respect it, laddie.’

Thorin shook his head, his jaw clenching.

‘I had not yet apologised, Balin.’ Thorin rasped out. ‘I must make amends for what I had said to him...what I had  _ done _ to him at the ramparts.’ Collapsing onto his seat, Thorin buried his face in the mithril shirt that was returned to him.

Warm tears mixed with the cold metal.

_ “You’re not your grandfather, Thorin.” The burglar had told him with a small smile, a pleased glow emanating from the hobbit, resting his head on Thorin's bare chest. “You know that, right?” _

Bilbo was wrong.

He was  _ worse _ than his grandfather.

Even in the height of his goldsickness, his grandfather had  _ never _ struck his grandmother.

Thorin did not realise he was sobbing until he felt Balin rubbing his back and telling him how it was not his fault. 

‘You weren’t yourself, lad. The Company knows that and understands that I’m certain Bilbo does as well.’ Balin told him gently. ‘Let me see if the younger members of the Company feel up to any investigating.’ Giving him a final pat on the back, Balin nodded and left the study as well.

Thorin looked at the mithril shirt bestowed upon him and he let out a trembling breath. In the haze of goldsickness, Thorin never revealed to Bilbo the significance of the gift he had given. Even in the depths of the sickness, Thorin had chosen and gifted it to his hobbit in the hopes that this might be the beginning of their courtship. Granted, he had been rather foolish in beginning the courtship by offering the most expensive and valuable item in the mountain, but he wished for Bilbo to see he was capable of providing for him.

To have this gift returned was an ill omen and Thorin refused to accept that that was what Bilbo meant.

Standing, Thorin hurriedly folded the mithril shirt and slid open the drawer of his writing desk, stuffing the shirt there before rushing out of the study as quickly as possible with the aid of his cane.

He must see if Dáin still had room for one more rider.

* * *

When Fíli came down to Dale with his brother and Ori, the three had decided to split up and meet with Bard after they had done as Balin asked. Ori had decided to go and see if the women and children had seen anyone, Kíli went to see if he could track down anyone that had been part of the battle starting from those nearest the camps then going further and Fíli? He had approached Hilda and had asked for her to guide him to where the healing tents were.

‘Are you sure you should even be out of bed, boy?’ The middle-aged woman asked sharply, eyeing him as he limped along, trying to follow her.

Fíli shrugged slightly and continued to walk with Hilda.

He was well enough to walk, but extended lengths of time spent on his feet was not recommended for him. Still, Fíli was eager to help his kin with anything and if finding Bilbo would help his uncle through the heartache and regret eating him, then the fair-haired dwarrow was willing to do this.

Stopping in front of a large white tent, Fíli thanked Hilda and stepped in.

He had no intentions of waking any of the patients but still, he limped past the cots the elves had apparently donated to the Men, trying to see familiar copper curls among the heads resting on pillows. 

He found none.

‘Who’re you lookin’ for, lad?’ A rough voice broke the silence.

Fíli almost jumped before turning to face the direction the voice had come from. 

There, he saw an injured old man, his arm in a sling and wrapped in a blanket that - based on the embroidery he could see - was of elvish make.

‘Ah...it is a missing member of my uncle’s company.’ He answered as carefully as he could. ‘A bit shorter than me, copper curls, round nose, ah...big feet? With fur at the top?’ He wasn’t expecting the old man to answer but perhaps if word spreads enough of Bilbo’s description, they would have more eyes looking for him.

‘Got a small pocket knife that glows?’ The old man asked gruffly.

Fíli stilled and he looked at the old man with wide eyes.

‘Got a blue coat too. Looks like one of the coats our children had that we donated to you dwarf folks when you came in.’ The old man added.

Rushing to the old man’s bedside, Fíli tried to find the right words as he managed to recall their burglar wearing such garments when they had left for Erebor.

‘You had seen him?’ Fíli stuttered out. ‘When was it you had seen him?’

‘During the battle. He attacked an orc that was coming towards me and got a blow in the head during that fight.’ The old man answered. ‘Gave me a chance to stab the bastard through but the fellow was unconscious and bleeding at the head when I got a look at him.’

Fíli frowned. 

Bilbo  _ had  _ been injured. But why was he not present here? Thinking he might have missed the hobbit somehow, Fíli made to look around the tent once more when the old man stopped him by grabbing onto his bicep.

‘You’ll not find ‘im here, boy.’ Was the answer to his unsaid question.

‘Do you know where he is?’ Fíli asked, his tone desperate.

The old man shook his head.

‘I’m sorry, lad.’ He genuinely seemed sorry but Fíli pressed his lips together. ‘The second wave of orcs were coming and we didn’t have the time to take the bodies.’

The heir of Erebor felt his blood chill.

_ Bodies _ .

* * *

Bilbo never thought he would experience the speed of elven horses or elven travel as a whole. The speed at which they had travelled had jarred him and made him fret that he might be doing harm to the developing babe within him much less retch out the breakfast he had eaten.

The elf with the missing leg, Apharchlalaithon, had helped with steadying him and had hurriedly moved to hide him when Bilbo caught a glimpse of Thorin.

_ Bilbo didn’t think he would see Thorin again. _

_ But then he saw the dwarf once more when he was seated on the cart that Miludîn had helped him onto. The sight alone caused a visceral reaction in him that he backed away. All he could feel was the fear and dread, the  _ hurt _ of seeing Thorin again shook his very being. He was not aware of the elf with ash-blond hair moving in front of him but all Bilbo could focus on was the fear that was threatening to swallow him as blue eyes filled with greed and hate haunted his memories, his body hanging above ramparts of greenstone. _

After that moment, Bilbo and the elf had spoken more to one another. Apparently, one of Dáin’s war contraptions had led to his leg being amputated. To his surprise, he didn’t seem too upset by it.

‘It will take some adjusting but life had been full of losses for me.’ Apharchlalaithon explained quietly, his tone was full of acceptance as if he had not lost a limb in battle barely a week ago. ‘I believe this is a lesser loss than my previous ones.’

Bilbo did not answer but he patted the elf as a way to tell him he understood. At least, he felt he could understand the ash-blond elf’s perspective to some extent. When the cart went over a rock, jostling the cart in the process, Bilbo made a surprised noise but was further surprised when the injured elf took the hobbit in his arms to shield him from further jostling.

‘We are almost there.’ One of the passing soldiers called out as they walked past. Bilbo frowned in confusion and looked around. None of the area they were walking in was familiar to the hobbit but he could see the trees of the Woodland Realm that looked to be in the process of a slow rot but he noticed how the elves seemed to be headed towards a cave. It was not gated but the elves seemed to rush in the moment they caught sight of the cave.

Bilbo felt the cart stop and he saw Felfendir jogging up to help him off. 

‘You will finally get to see our home.’ Felfendir breathed out, his voice barely concealing his excitement. ‘Come, the kingdom is not too far off.’

Bilbo hesitated and looked behind at the cart where some of the injured were being helped up by various elves. As if understanding his concerns, Felfendir squeezed the hobbit’s shoulder gently.

‘They will be alright.’ His guard assured him. ‘The healers and various soldiers will be there to help them.’

Though he still wanted to stay and see to it that the other elves get to enter first, Bilbo nodded. Giving a last glance back at the injured, he caught sight of Apharchlalaithon who met his gaze as he clearly struggled to balance himself with the crutches he was given. The ash-blond elf smiled reassuringly at him and nodded for him to go on.

Bilbo nodded and followed Felfendir who led him into the cave.

It was darkness within it when he stepped in. As if the light had been swallowed by the sickness of the forest. And yet, he did not hear a dead silence but the cacophonous voices of elves speaking rapidly to one another, some were singing or humming but none were fearing for their lives. And Bilbo took heart in that. Feeling Felfendir gently guide him, he realised that this seemed to be a slope of sorts, a pathway leading them down.

‘I’m sorry but you told me we’ll be going to your kingdom, right?’ Bilbo asked carefully as he held onto Felfendir’s trousers tightly while walking through the darkness.

Felfendir chuckled. ‘Give it a few more moments, Master Baggins. You will see our home.’

As they walked on, Bilbo began seeing a sliver of light shining through the darkness. Squinting at it, Bilbo followed along until he finally saw the home that the Elvenking and his consort had been alluding to the past three days. His eyes widened at the sight and he could feel his breath taken away as he looked round at a kingdom he did not expect to see.

‘Yavanna be blessed.’ The hobbit breathed out, awed.

‘Welcome to the Woodland Realm, Bilbo.’ Thranduil called out, approaching him and his guard among the throng of soldiers that were dispersing. The Elvenking bowed his head with a small smile, ‘Welcome to  _ our _ home.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well uhhh who knew that'd happen. Well, next chapter is likely to be a Company-centric chapter but I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please don’t hesitate to comment as it keeps me very motivated to keep on writing! Thanks so much for your continued support, I appreciate this so much! ❤️❤️❤️


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fffsss I might have written this to be a bit longer than my usual chapters but I hope you guys enjoy this Company-centric chapter even then! Oh and uhhhh misunderstandings happen and Thorin isn’t coping too well. Not that he’s wrong with his belief though!

Fíli felt numb as he reconvened with Ori and his brother. He took note of the hopeful looks Ori and Kíli had given him as he approached and Fíli could feel the dread pooling deep within him at the sheer thought of having to deliver the news to not only his brother and boyhood friend but also to his uncle and the rest of the company.

‘Found anything,  _ nadadith _ ?’ Fíli mentally scolded himself for not telling them straight away. But a part of him hoped that the two might have found something to disprove what was likely the truth.

Kíli shook his head, his brows furrowed.

‘I tried, I swear I did.’ Kíli muttered, his hands clenching into fists. ‘I mean, how hard would it have been to  _ miss _ Bibo? He  _ doesn’t _ look like a human and he’s nowhere  _ near _ dwarvish and he’s definitely  _ not _ going to blend in with the elves, but whenever I ask someone, they seem to not have seen him at all!’ His brother finished, looking more and more frustrated the more he spoke.

Fíli flinched before looking at Ori expectantly. The scribe just shrugged slightly.

‘Some said they saw him at battle but they didn’t see him after.’ Ori supplied, his tone quiet. ‘Asked one of the ladies and she said that maybe he left after the battle.’

Fíli was silent for a moment.

He wanted to believe this lie. He wanted to encourage it so that they would not have to undergo that grief. He had seen how grief had affected many and Fíli had no desire to see such pains fall upon his house. Far as he knew, they had grieved long enough for the grandfather he never met and they had grieved long enough for his other grandparent. They almost fell into mourning when they believed his father dead but they thankfully were given mercy by Mahal.

Fíli prayed for that same mercy now.

‘Maybe if we join the riders tomorrow, we could have some chances at catching up to Bilbo.’ Kíli suggested suddenly. ‘I mean, I think we would have a good chance! Maybe he’s still in the forest and then we could bring him back to uncle-’

Fíli found himself speaking before he could stop himself. His parents had taught him better than to allow lies to be believed.

‘Kíli, I don’t think that will do much.’ The eldest prince cut his brother off, his tone heavy with a sorrow that suffocated his heart. ‘I spoke with someone who had seen him during the battle.’

The wide-eyed, hopeful gazes exchanged by Ori and Kíli broke Fíli’s heart. He had no desire to snuff that light from their eyes. He did not wish to be the bearer of such ill-fated news. But here he was regardless.

‘And? Did he say where Bilbo was?’ Kíli pressed, his tone almost wheedling. ‘D’you think we’d be able to catch up if we left tonight?’

Fíli shook his head.

‘Kíli, Bilbo was injured in battle.’ He answered, his voice breaking.

Kíli looked at him, his face scrunching up in confusion. He smiled worriedly and shook his head.

‘Then we’ll find him and bring him back to the mountain to be tended to.’ Kíli retorted. Fíli caught the denial swimming in the depths of his brother’s eyes and he reached out, grasping Kíli by the shoulders. ‘I don’t understand why you have to act as if he’s  _ dead _ when it’s just an injury.’

‘Kíli,  _ please _ .’ Fíli pleaded, his voice trembling. ‘Open your eyes. Not many survived the battle, do you think it would be such a stretch to believe that Bilbo did not survive?’ He shot back, tears finally streaming down his face.

Kíli shook his head stubbornly. ‘Then  _ where _ is his body,  _ nadad _ ! Show me his body  _ then _ I just  _ might _ believe that!’

Throughout their exchange, Ori had been silent. His head was bowed and fingers fidgeting with his scarf. Looking at the princes, Ori bit his lip before speaking quietly.

‘The Men burned their dead on a pyre, right?’ He asked softly. ‘I heard they had burned the children that were killed as well.’

Fíli grew silent as he looked at the scribe who ducked his head down. That never occurred to him that the reason for the lack of a body would have been that the humans had burned their burglar’s body. 

He just assumed that the stragglers from the orc army had taken him along with other corpses to feast on.

He did not know which outcome to prefer for their fallen burglar.

‘We have to tell uncle.’ Fíli said at last, reaching out for his brother only for Kíli to yank his arm away from him and stomp off to their rams.

Ori lingered for a moment and looked at the different tents around them.

‘What about Bard?’ The scribe asked at last. ‘I thought we have to speak to him too?’

Fíli stopped and noticed Ori looking anxiously at him. He sighed.

‘Fine. You and Kíli need to go to the mountain and alert the company and uncle about everything and I will speak with Bard.’

Ori nodded and ran off to accompany the dark-haired prince as they rode off back to the mountain.

* * *

Thorin had had to fight Dáin to allow him to join on the expedition through Mirkwood for a good three hours. He had had to insist that he was well enough to travel for long hours as well as that Balin and Fíli will be able to keep an eye on the mountain while they were away but even after Dáin had conceded to his request, Thorin could still see the doubt in the dwarf lord’s eyes.

‘D’you have everything sorted for tomorrow then?’ Dwalin asked as he helped Thorin pack away more items for the search Dáin was to be leading.

Thorin grunted an affirmative.

‘Will you be able to be back before the frost settles in or will you have no choice but to seek shelter elsewhere?’ Dwalin continued.

Thorin paused. He had his duties to his kingdom and Thorin refused to ignore those. But he also wished to find his One just so Bilbo would hear his apology and so he could understand that Thorin did not mean any of it. He grimaced.

‘I shall do my best to be back before such a time but if worse comes to worst, I shall send a missive to you to tell you where I shall be staying at for the winter.’ Thorin said, his voice careful. ‘I believe I will be able to run the mountain even from a distance.’

‘Thorin, I don’t think-’ Whatever it was Dwalin was about to say was cut off by the sound of Bofur shouting for the both of them to come out.

‘Kíli and Ori’s come back with news!’

The two looked at one another and though Dwalin clearly looked like he wanted to push for their conversation to continue, the thought of finally having news of their missing member was far more important to both that they ran out of the study to meet with Kíli and Ori.

‘Where’s Fíli?’ Dwalin asked almost immediately as he looked at the two.

‘Went to have a meeting with Bard, he’ll be back later with the Men, I think.’ Ori answered, his voice a far cry from the hopeful tone it held early that afternoon. 

Thorin frowned as he took in his youngest nephew’s expression along with Ori’s. There was something amiss and he found that he dreaded to hear whatever news it was the two bore for him.

‘Have you found any news on Bilbo?’ Bofur asked, his voice hopeful, ‘We all need to speak with the lad about disappearing on us too soon, eh?’ The miner added with a chuckle.

As if breaking a dam open, Ori’s face crumpled in grief as tears streamed down his face. Kíli, however, had a stubborn clench to his jaw.

‘Fíli found a patient in the healing tents who saw Bilbo in battle.’ Kíli reported, his tone was bitter and angry, fists clenched tightly that it could draw blood if it were tightened further. ‘He said Bilbo was injured and that no one saw him after the battle since they didn’t have time to return for the bodies.’

A dead silence filled the room.

‘Bodies?’ Thorin repeated numbly. Surely they couldn’t be implying such a thing? Not to him. Not his Bilbo.

‘The battle took many people, some were disfigured beyond recognition.’ Dwalin spoke, his voice was detached, head bowed and hands clenching and unclenching rapidly. ‘Can’t be too hard to disfigure the corpse of a hobbit and think it’s a child.’

Thorin shook his head. ‘Stop.’ He snapped at his friend, heart beating wildly. ‘Bilbo is not dead. He is far more clever than that.’

‘Laddie…’ Balin started.

Thorin backed away, shaking his head stubbornly.

‘There are still things I had not told him, thing...things he needs to hear from me. I refuse to believe that lie.’ He hissed. ‘I know our burglar, he would not have fallen in battle.’

Turning away from his companions, Thorin hurried to his study and locked himself within it. He could hear Balin and the others calling for him to come out, telling him that it was acceptable for him to grieve, that he must accept what the evidence they had managed to find had said.

Thorin ignored them and simply sat at his desk and took out all the documents Dáin had given him to be able to begin running the mountain.

Furiously, he wrote. He wrote until he burned through all pages, until he had finished three inkwells and broke his pen seven times in the process. He wrote until his lamp oil was almost burned out entirely and he wrote some more until the fire in his fireplace died. He did not stop until he had finished all delegations and notes were finished and when he was done, he folded them all, scrawled Balin’s name and sealed it with the crest of Durin’s house. With his task done, Thorin opened the door and made for the location he knew the war rams were kept. When he arrived at the pen, he stilled at the sight of a figure seated on a stool between two war rams.

‘Thought you would come ‘ere.’ Dáin rough voice greeted him and Thorin scowled.

‘Know I will not hesitate to fight you if you try to stop me.’ He snarled out, his hand going to Orcrist’s hilt.

Dáin barked out a laugh and stood up.

‘Thorin, you could barely defeat me in our spars when you were in a healthy state, d’you think you could defeat me now when you’re still injured?’ He answered simply before pulling the two rams forward. ‘I’d have pummelled your sorry ass by then.’

Dumbfounded, Thorin looked at Dáin and then at the rams.

‘You…will help me?’

Dáin shrugged. ‘You’ve got until the frost settles and you’ll need someone to watch over you. Don’t see why it can’t be me seeing as I’ve got the rams saddled and packed with several weeks’ worth of food. Already told my lad to send a raven to his bearer so they could send more supplies and food for the winter and I’ve no doubt Balin and Fíli’ll do well in leading Erebor while we’re gone.’ Dáin grinned. ‘Even got my own raven to send back here with updates.’

Silent, Thorin regarded the dwarf lord in the same way he had in his youth when Dáin and Náin came to their aid a year after the sacking.

_ “It took awhile to gather all the supplies we needed but we managed it.” Dáin said as he presented several caravans’ worth of food and clothes, healing herbs, even some coins to be distributed. “All four Orocarni strongholds chipped in some and all of us want to tell you our gates are open for any Ereborean refugee.” _

Thorin pulled Dáin into a tight embrace.

‘Thank you, kin of my heart.’ 

_ “Thank you, kin of my heart.” _

Dáin huffed out a laugh and pulled away. Mounting his ram, the dwarf lord grinned.

‘Shall we go and hunt ourselves a hobbit’s forgiveness?’

Thorin smiled.

‘Let us make haste then.’

In the darkness of the night, the High Lord of the Iron Hills and the King Under the Mountain disappeared from the mountain along with some supplies, some bedrolls and two war rams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Nadadith - Little brother  
> Nadad - Brother
> 
> So basically, this story will not have villain Dáin or Thranduil. Different characters would be set for the big baddie but that’s just for later. For now, I hope you guys enjoyed this and as always, please comment as it always motivates me to keep on writing!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incoming unasked for add-on worldbuilding and I regret nothing of it! I hope you guys enjoy this!!

Bilbo did not know what he was expecting whenever Thranduil or Glanduron spoke of their home with fondness and longing. He had not expected a thriving forest kingdom with trees large enough to have homes within it, green even with the frost of spring outside and though it still did not feel wholly like the Shire to him, it felt different in a good way.

After they had arrived, Thranduil had called for each family who had lost kith or kin and had given them news of the fallen soldiers. While he was waiting, Bilbo was guided by Felfendir to a great beech tree that had a doorway carved inside. Nodding encouragingly, his guard smiled.

‘His Majesty had insisted that until we can arrange for a home for you, you shall be residing with the royal family.’ His guard explained. Bilbo made to protest but Felfendir shook his head. ‘His Majesty had insisted and said it was only fair. You deserve great care and you can be in no better hands than those of King Oropher’s House.’

Bilbo sighed, ‘Well, it’s not that. I’m not anything special.’ Bilbo pointed out simply. Felfendir shrugged.

‘Neither are we.’ The guard answered simply. ‘We simply want to treat one another the way we would treat family. His Majesty had practically claimed you as kin at this rate.’

Bilbo grew silent at his guard’s statement and looked at Felfendir carefully.

‘I’m sorry, he had...claimed me as kin?’

As if realising he had said something he should not have said, Felfendir stilled for a few moments before saying he was needed to oversee something as his friends had asked him earlier to do so. Bilbo could hear the blatant lie in his guard’s voice but he allowed the elf to run off hurriedly. Shaking his head, Bilbo stepped into the doorway and felt his breath come out in a hushed “oh.” There were multiple storeys in the tree home, the walls had lanterns and lamps hanging from it, various etchings littered the walls that varied in quality. 

It was an enchanting sight for the hobbit, having never seen such a thing before in his life. Stepping further into the room, Bilbo caught sight of a particular etching in the wall. It was almost child-like in design with the unsure shakiness of a small hand trying to carve images into wood. Smiling to himself, Bilbo reached out and traced the lines of the image resembling an elf planting something among small trees.

‘An etching done by my youngest brother.’ The Elvenking’s voice came in, his tone fond. ‘He was still quite young when we discovered the cave and its potential. When _Adar_ had created out home, he thought it only right to carve the memory of our family carefully creating the forest with our people. Chuckling in the memory, he shook his head. ‘ _Adar_ thought it was a _wonderful_ idea and had even helped in creating the rest of the etchings.’

Bilbo smiled a bit at the story and he could imagine an elf lad trying his hardest to carve an image stuck in his head. 

‘Your father sounds like a good man.’ Bilbo remarked as he gazed at an etching far more ornate in comparison to the childish one he had been seeing.

‘He was.’ Thranduil affirmed. ‘Losing him led to a long grieving period for my family. My younger brothers left the Woodland Realm shortly after.’

Bilbo made a sympathetic noise. He had heard of elves being unable to continue on in life that they ended up going west where they might find peace. As if discerning what ran through Bilbo’s mind, Thranduil’s eyes widened before he smiled sheepishly.

‘Not in _that_ way, Bilbo. I mean, my younger brother requested a station in Imladris as an ambassador for the Woodland Realm, my youngest brother went to Aman to aid Cirdan in building ships. I had not seen them in the last century.’ Though Thranduil clearly was trying to reassure Bilbo, he heard the grief and longing in the Elvenking’s voice as he spoke and Bilbo felt his own eyes sting with the threat of tears.

Clearing his throat, Bilbo tried to move past the subject. ‘Does-does Legolas know them?’ He asked carefully.

Thranduil nodded.

‘Legolas is quite fond of them both but they only come every now and again.’ Thranduil explained, ‘My brothers are just as fond of him. It is simply that the sight of the home we had created brings back ghosts of the past where they hear laughter and our father’s voice echoing through the very trees.’

Bilbo was silent as he looked at the Elvenking. When he saw his dwarrows taken to the throne room, he had seen Thranduil as cold, heartless and distant. He looked down upon the company and sent them to the dungeons without batting an eye but to see him looking around his home, a hand resting on an etching done by an elf child that was his brother, eyes full of hauntedness for things long gone reminded Bilbo that this elf-king was more than what he had heard others speak of him.

As if realising how maudlin his thoughts had become, the Elvenking looked away from the etchings and turned to look at Bilbo.

‘I was wondering, would you like to see the chambers I had been thinking you may want to use?’ 

Curiosity gripping him, Bilbo nodded and asked for the Elvenking to lead the way. He had expected to be going up a flight of stairs, Bilbo was instead brought through the first curtained doorway to the right and inside it was a simple but elegant bedroom. There was a stone hearth that Bilbo assumed would not set fire to the whole house seeing as it was quite literally a _treehouse_ , pushed against the wall was a bed that looked like it had been carved from the very floor of the room with crisp white sheets covering a large mattress, furs covered it and see-through satin curtains hung at the sides of the bed’s four posters. Bilbo wandered further in and he caught sight of what appeared to be a private sitting room with a nest of pillows thrown in a dip in the centre of the floor. What caught his sight was a bassinet pushed up against the far wall where various playthings had been stored.

‘I was not exactly able to use the stairs as much when I was expecting Legolas.’ Thranduil offered by way of explanation. ‘My brothers were present for my pregnancy and had designed this room when they noticed this difficulty.’

‘Then I _shouldn’t_ take this room.’ Bilbo answered, his tone firm. ‘It has a meaning for you and I don’t want to change anything in regards to this room.’

Thranduil chuckled and shook his head. ‘Bilbo, this room will only keep getting cleaned only for none to use it. I would rather my family’s work be used for something than have it simply be treated like a memorial. A museum artefact.’

Bilbo was silent. Approaching the bassinet, he noticed how it had been carved to have a mobile there. It had more etchings, now older and more skilled than the ones he had seen in the first storey but he still noticed the distinct style used. Tracing the carving, Bilbo smiled faintly as he saw it was the image of elves dancing around bonfires with white gems above the dancing figures.

‘The Feast of Starlight.’ Thranduil explained. ‘If you wish to, you could use some of the things we had for Legolas when he was younger. His toys and blankets, perhaps.’

Bilbo nodded. ‘You are terribly kind, Thranduil.’ He said, his tone quiet. ‘For someone I’d barely spoken to before the battle, you welcomed me quite easily.’

‘Strangers are simply family we had yet to meet.’ Thranduil answered simply as he went to the vast bed Bilbo’s room had and began arranging the pillows. ‘I see no point in treating you with hostility if I do not know you well enough to know your character.’

Remembering Felfendir’s words earlier, Bilbo approached Thranduil and helped the elf-king with straightening out the bedsheets. Clearing his throat, Bilbo gathered up his courage and looked at Thranduil carefully.

‘Earlier, Felfendir said something that made me curious.’ He said. Thranduil responded by nodding his head for Bilbo to continue.

‘Oh?’

‘He said you had practically claimed me as kin already.’ At that, Thranduil had stilled, his eyes wide as if he had not expected this to be said. But it was as if he also expected such a thing, just that he seemed to be surprised Bilbo brought it up at all. Tilting his head, Bilbo raised a brow at the Elvenking.

‘Does that mean anything in your culture, Thranduil?’

Thranduil grimaced and gestured for Bilbo to have a seat. ‘I believe I owe you some explanations regarding an idea I had?’

Getting up on the bed, Bilbo nodded. ‘I _do_ think I’m owed one, yes. What’s this about, Thranduil?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Adar - Father (Formal)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! I’ll see if I could put in a mix of both Thorin and Bilbo's perspective in the next chapter! But hey, what do you think? I greatly appreciate all your. Comments and would love to hear what you think! They always motivate me to keep writing!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your continued support! I really appreciate the fact that you are all enjoying my story and I hope you guys continue to enjoy it!

‘That is the most convoluted plan I had heard.’ Bilbo commented from where he was lying on his bed.

Thranduil, who had decided to lie down at the foot of the bed pulled a face akin to a child being presented with a disliked food.

‘ _Politics_ , Bilbo.’ He drawled out. ‘I _never_ enjoyed its convolution _nor_ its pomp. But if I am able to, I shall do it for the sake of my people and my family.’

‘And I’m counted in it now?’ Bilbo shot back.

Thranduil hummed in affirmation.

‘I find it easier to keep other monarchs from meddling with my people’s affairs if I ensure to it that they shall be meddling with the affairs of the royal family itself by doing so.’ Thranduil muttered as he sat up, his hair becoming slightly mussed from lying down. ‘So I ensured to it that you shall be in my protection and guardianship as a son so that Erebor shall not be able to lay a finger on you.’

Bilbo was silent for a moment before he spoke once more.

‘Did you...did you just adopt the  _ entire _ kingdom?’ Bilbo asked in disbelief.

Thranduil let out an undignified snort and he grinned with mischief sparking in pale eyes. It reminded Bilbo so much of Legolas that he finally saw their similarity and found he quite enjoyed getting to know this Thranduil over the warped narrative he had been fed.

‘Perhaps I did.’ Thranduil shrugged. ‘Anything to get everyone to leave my people alone and to stop them from whispering behind their backs.’

Bilbo laughed and shook his head. ‘I hope you understand that this will cause quite a lot of confusion to many people.’

Thranduil was silent for a moment before he gave a nonchalant smile. ‘Let all kingdoms be confused, my people know  _ why  _ I had claimed them as members of my father’s house and that is enough.’

‘Does Glanduron know?’

Thranduil raised a brow at Bilbo. ‘Glanduron will always know of what I’d done. Besides, he was the first to suggest this idea to protect one of the scouts we had.’

‘You and your family are good people.’ Bilbo said at last.

Thranduil only looked surprised to have heard that at all.

* * *

Dáin had had to stop Thorin from pushing their rams into going further. Night was falling and the dwarf lord had no desire to ride through the night. Thankfully they had thick furs to keep them warm in the night, Dáin highly doubted Thorin planned for his escape beyond leaving the mountain and riding to Mahal only knew where.

‘You know if we keep going towards Mirkwood, I am certain we can get halfway through the forest ere dawn.’ Thorin suggested as he settled into his bedroll.

Dáin shot a warning look at his old friend and made a disapproving noise.

‘Thorin, I’m fine with the idea of looking for your One as I trust your hunch that he still lives but I’ll not have you running the rams to the ground.’ 

He was only thankful that he did not bring the boars as he was far more fond of the beasts than the rams but he knew his son had helped their stablehands to care for the rams. Dáin did not want to return to the mountain with news that one of the rams Torsten had raised to have died from overexhaustion.

‘I am merely suggesting a speculation, Dáin.’ Thorin defended himself before sighing and burying himself underneath the furs. ‘I do not want Bilbo to have gone all the way to the Shire when we wake.

‘Ah yes, a hobbit all alone on foot with little to no provisions who is likely injured can most definitely beat us in speed if we just rest a few hours.’ Dáin said, deadpan. Sometimes he had to wonder at Thorin’s logic but he did not want to be cruel.

‘It is a serious possibility, Dáin.’ Thorin insisted.

‘Go the fuck to sleep, Thorin. Don’t make me box you.’

Grumbling, Thorin turned away from Dáin, his head becoming hidden by the thick furs.

Dáin closed his eyes and prayed to Mahal for patience for his stone-headed friend.

* * *

Come nightfall, Bilbo was surprised to see that the elves were not yet ready to retire. He asked Pedwegion about this as he noted his guard to be dressed in shimmering white clothes.

‘It is for grieving.’ His guard explained as he hurriedly braided his hair up. ‘All our soldiers who had been killed in battle will be honoured tonight and we will be wearing our mourning clothes.’

Bilbo noted how Pedwegion had a crown of leaves and flowers perched atop his head and for a moment, Bilbo wanted to ask if he was allowed to witness such a thing but stopped himself. It was likely a personal event for the Silvan elf and he had no desire to offer insult to his hosts who had generously housed him and welcomed him as family.

‘You know  _ all _ of the royal family will be coming.’ Pedwegion said at last as he finally got his braid to stay up and out of his face. ‘His Majesty, Lord Glanduron and Legolas wish to know if the newest member of their house will be joining.’ Pausing, Pedwegion added, ‘Though His Majesty said it might be better to grant you rest if you are exhausted.’

He did not expect that Thranduil was serious when the Elvenking had told him that he was a part of his family now. Much less that his own people would acknowledge such a bond.

‘I’m quite alright, thank you.’ Bilbo answered at last as he got up from his bed. ‘Though I’m afraid I’ve nothing to wear for this.’ He added.

At that, Pedwegion smiled kindly before going to the knapsack that Legolas had stuffed all of Bilbo’s tunics in. 

Bilbo knew all the tunics that had been altered for him by the royal family and he knew he had no such clothes like Pedwegion’s. But then he saw Pedwegion take out the silver tunic made of silk and the scout shrugged slightly.

‘Not the shimmering fabric we use for grieving but this will do.’ Pedwegion said as he handed the tunic to Bilbo before going to the terrace of Bilbo’s room to look at the climbing vines where flowers grew. Plucking some out, the elf returned to Bilbo’s side and was swiftly weaving the flowers to one another.

‘May I braid this into your hair?’ Pedwegion said at last. ‘I am not as skilled as Miludîn but I am passable.’

Bilbo allowed this and in a matter of moments, Bilbo had flowers braided into his hair, pulling the curls away from his face. Following his guard, Bilbo caught sight of Thranduil and Glanduron standing beside one another and speaking to some elves that Bilbo assumed were related to the late soldiers. When Glanduron saw him, the consort raised a hand in greeting to the hobbit before excusing himself. Approaching Bilbo, Glanduron smiled sombrely.

‘I am sorry this is the first event you shall witness as a member of our house.’ The dark-haired elf said softly. ‘But I also thank you for joining us tonight.’

What followed was a night of songs and shared stories of the dead. Bilbo heard wistful tales of romances, mischievous prank wars reminiscent of common Shire tweens, tales of rescues and friendship, tales of children who were full of vitality and youth that made them sound younger than their true ages were. Bilbo saw some elves break down as they relayed their tales and when he looked at Glanduron who sat at his right, the consort’s head was bowed with tears streaming down his cheeks. Thranduil was silent and would chime in some songs but he had kept silent throughout the sharing of tales. Legolas had more stories to share, having been part of various squads and having been keener to speak of fond memories with his fellow elves and though a smile was on his face, Bilbo saw the bitter pain in the elf prince’s eyes and laughter.

When it was all finished, Thranduil lit a torch and set fire to a hearth in front of his home. His eyes were a cold mask Bilbo had seen in a time he felt was long gone and after that act, Thranduil entered him home. With Glanduron’s hand o his back, Bilbo entered the home as well and saw Thranduil taking shimmering cloths from Legolas and heading into one of the rooms.

‘Go to sleep, Bilbo. We will just be covering the mirrors with cloth so that the  _ fëa  _ of the dead will not be lost.’ Glanduron murmured. 

Handing Bilbo a shimmering silver cloth of his own, Bilbo was ushered back to his room. Quietly, Bilbo looked at the mirror of the vanity present in his chamber. Stepping on the stool, Bilbo draped it over the mirror before he went to bed, his mind full of elven voices singing of starlight and memories full of grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Fëa - Spirit/Soul
> 
> Well, we get some Silvan culture I made up for the sake of it, Dáin and Thorin bickering at bedtime and at the end of it all, guess Bilbo's now part of the royal family! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and please don't hesitate to comment as I appreciate it all greatly!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one day! I hope you guys enjoy this! We get more Thorin and Bilbo moments! And a new player enters but she's not really much too important in this fic until I start another one haha

Thorin woke Dáin the moment dawn had come. He did not sleep much and he did not think he would need it. Not when they were on something so time-sensitive as this. He could tell that the dwarf lord was still groggy but still Thorin pulled Dáin up with a difficulty he will never admit to and hurriedly saddled their rams once more. With Dáin finally on his feet and moving, albeit with a great deal of grumbling, Thorin mounted his ram and waited impatiently for his friend to get on his. The very moment Dáin had gotten on his ram, Thorin rode off.

When Dáin had caught up with him, Thorin could already see Mirkwood’s entrance nearing and Thorin clenched his jaw.

‘Pray your theory that Bilbo can’t have gone far to be true as I refuse to lose my One without apologising.’ Dáin muttered something unintelligible before he responded a bit louder.

‘Thorin, you know I care about you a great deal but just know you are a bloody pillock who is more overdramatic than those of the Thespians’ Guild.’ Dáin said simply as they finally arrived at the entrance of the forest. ‘I hope you’ve got a plan. Heard the forest’s closed from trespassers and travellers at the moment.’

‘I highly doubt they would be leaving their kingdom during mourning.’ Thorin scoffed as they finally entered. Drawing Orcrist, Thorin looked at the path ahead and steadied his breathing. ‘And now, they should know better than to imprison nobility lest they would wish the threat of war upon them.’

Dáin could only hope that his cousin was right to think that as he felt unnerved the further they went into the forest. Though he held no ill will towards the elf king, he had to wonder what possessed the bloody lunatic to stay in the forest when even _he_ could smell _and_ see the rot overtaking its trees. Grimacing at the sight of what was a decaying tree, Dáin pushed his ram to go as far as possible from it.

All throughout, eyes unseen followed the two dwarves. Eyes that had grown accustomed to the darkness.

* * *

Bilbo awoke to the sight of a dark-skinned woman entering his chambers with a clay jug held carefully with both hands. Stilling, Bilbo watched as she moved around his room, oblivious to his presence. She placed the clay jug upon a dresser where a porcelain basin was stationed with another jug beside it. Feeling awkward, Bilbo cleared his throat and watched as the woman turned abruptly to face him, her eyes wide.

‘Ah…good morning.’ Bilbo said, raising a hand in greeting to the woman.

She only looked at him before awkwardly bowing her head, a hand on her chest as her greeting to him.

‘Good morning, Master Baggins.’ She returned, a close-lipped smile gracing her lips. ‘I apologise for surprising you.’ She said with a quick curtesy before moving to leave. ‘I will take up breakfast for you and then I shall draw you a bath. Will that be acceptable?’

Still stunned at the woman’s arrival, Bilbo only nodded in response. When the woman had gone, Bilbo got up off his bed and went over to the dresser and brought down the porcelain basin. The clay jugs, when Bilbo checked them, were filled with cold or warm water. Figuring it was for washing his face, the hobbit did just that. While he was doing so, the woman had returned with a tray full of foodstuffs. 

‘Your towel is folded inside the dresser.’ She informed him, her voice soft. ‘Please do not hesitate to ring the bell should you need anything.’ 

Taking out the towel, Bilbo hurriedly wiped the water from his face and followed the woman to the dip in the centre of the floor where she rearranged the pillows by nudging some of the pillows in the dip to form a better seat with her bare foot. Setting down the tray, the woman looked at the hobbit as if to ask him for his opinion. Bilbo nodded and smiled at her.

‘Thank you, Miss-?’ Bilbo paused, not knowing what to call her.

The woman’s dark eyes met his gaze. She smiled that close-lipped smile once more.

‘Anoriel. Anoriel Fereniel of Aurêl’s House.’ She introduced herself before leaving his room. 

Though he was still curious about the woman, Bilbo decided to push that curiosity aside for the time being and focused instead on the grumbling of his stomach. Seating himself on the nest of pillows, Bilbo looked at the arrangement set before him and began to eat.

* * *

Dáin offered Thorin some jerky as they rode through the forest. Thorin didn’t want any food in case any small distraction might lead them astray. He still had not forgotten the sheer misery he and his company had had to go through in this and he refuses to undergo that nightmare again.

‘Thorin, if you don’t take the bloody strip of jerky I will shove it in your mouth instead.’ Dáin threatened warningly.

Scowling, Thorin took the strip being offered to him with a grudging thanks. Dáin harrumphed and muttered something that Thorin was sure he should take offence in were he not so focused on ensuring that they not lose their way. They travelled long past noon until Dáin stopped his ram and forced Thorin to sit down for a moment.

‘Thorin, we really need to speak of this.’ Dáin started simply.

Thorin felt himself bristle. After everything Dáin had said, the dwarf lord was going to rescind his help now? Dáin was going to reveal that he does not believe whatever Thorin had said and was only doing this out of pity. A bitter taste came to his tongue at the thought and he steeled himself.

‘We’re trespassing and don’t you suppose it might be better if we actually ask for the leaf-eaters to help us?’ Dáin asked at last. ‘Think of it, this forest feels like a bloody death trap that your hobbit is stuck in. D’you think it’d be dignified if we got lost as well?’

‘Thranduil refused to help me.’ Thorin replied, his lips curling into a spiteful sneer at the memory of the prideful elf-king. ‘I highly doubt he would be willing to rethink his answer if we come to him now.’

Dáin sighed and shook his head. ‘It’s always worth a shot to try and get help, Thorin.’ The dwarf lord said simply. ‘Don’t think I didn’t know what the Mirkwood elves had done for Erebor before my father and the other Eastern dwarf kingdoms had stepped in to help. I’m not _daft_.’

Thorin clenched his jaw. ‘I will never stoop so low as to ask for that elf king’s help again.’ He vowed.

‘A shame you feel that way.’ A dainty voice drawled out.

The two dwarf nobles stilled at the sight of a youthful looking she-elf, her hair a dark brown, beside her was a blond elf who was aiming an arrow at them and behind them are around eight more elves. From among the squad of elves, a she-elf with auburn hair stepped forward, Thorin assumed she was the one leading this group. Her eyes narrowed in immediate distrust, her lips curling into an unwelcome sneer.

‘Your Majesty, please come with us.’

* * *

Anoriel had returned with a copper tub small enough for Bilbo to bathe in comfortably. Having stationed it in front of the fire, she left swiftly for Bilbo to have the comfort of washing everything away from the past few days. Though he wanted to enjoy the bath, Bilbo had also wanted to wander around his sanctuary, his new home. Scrubbing away the dirt and grime with a cake of soap Anoriel had left, Bilbo got dressed with the clothes she had laid out on the bed and left his room. Outside, he caught sight of Legolas seated on another nest of pillows - did the Woodland Realm not know what chairs were? - a book open on his lap and his hair was once more braided into a crown. As if hearing his footsteps, Legolas looked at him and smiled brightly.

‘Good morning, _honeg._ ’ The elf prince greeted as he rose, his book having been tossed to the pillows as Legolas came to greet him. 

‘Ah...good morning, Legolas.’ Bilbo returned. ‘I hope I was not interrupting anything?’

The elf prince shrugged before looking at the book. ‘Just fairytales.’ He answered simply. ‘I was worried you may sleep through breakfast but fortunately Anoriel brought you your meal just as I was contemplating climbing through your terrace with it.’

Bilbo spluttered at the thought of the elf prince doing something such as that and from the unrepentant grin the blond elf bore, he had little doubts Legolas _would_ do such a thing.

‘Who is she anyway? I’m afraid I didn’t see any servants around here.’ Bilbo said as he began making his way out the house. Tailing after him, Legolas shrugged.

‘We do not have servants but Feren, one of our captains, expressed concerns for Anoriel due to her _peredhel_ blood. She had already been present in the battle and was fortunate she only had superficial injuries and wounds but still, he worried.’ As if guiding him somewhere, Legolas steered Bilbo off to a large copse of trees with some huts interspersed within it. ‘So _Ada_ had offered her a temporary job as your assistant. She’s quite good at it, do you not think so?’

Bilbo grimaced. ‘Well, she _is_ quite good.’ The hobbit agreed hesitantly, ‘But really, I don’t need one. I’m not _that_ special.’

Legolas paused in his walking and looked at him with an indiscernible expression. Kneeling down to his level, the elf prince laid a hand on his shoulder.

‘Bilbo, why do you keep doing that to yourself?’ Legolas asked gently, his tone conveying a sadness that Bilbo couldn’t fathom.

‘What?’ 

‘Why do you keep bringing yourself down and rejecting kindnesses freely given?’

_Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Honeg - Brother (informal)  
> Ada - Father (Informal)
> 
> Well we ended with Thorin getting captured by elves (again) for trespassing (again) and now we get Legolas confronting Bilbo about something Bilbo had been unconsciously doing out of genuine concern. Rest assured, we ain’t getting a reunion just yet!


	13. Chapter 13

‘You know, this is absolutely _hilarious_.’ Dáin said after awhile as he and Thorin trudged through the forest. ‘Go into the forest, you said. We’ll not be captured since we’re royalty, you said. Oh aye, that’s just side-splitting.’

Thorin shot a confused look at the dwarf lord. Dáin was not looking at him but straight ahead. His voice was calm as he said this but Thorin knew better than to assume the dwarf lord was in a sporting mood in regards to their current predicament.

‘Clapping two dwarven nobles in irons always did make me laugh.’ The auburn-haired she-elf responded, her tone dry. ‘Never you mind, the palace draws near.’

The memories of being in the dungeons made Thorin bristle and he was about to threaten the she-elf when Dáin gave him a warning glare that kept his mouth shut. He was never the best with being diplomatic to elves and his grudge against those of Mirkwood never truly left even when a century had passed.

As Thranduil’s Halls came into view, Thorin steeled himself and readied himself to meet the elven bastard once more. The auburn-haired she-elf then turned to an elf with a similar shade of his hair and she spoke to him in their tongue. The elf responded with something that she answered sharply and with a nod of his head, the procession to the palace continued.

* * *

Thranduil was woken by soft kisses on his neck. He smiled faintly and opened his eyes to meet the pale-eyed gaze of his husband.

‘ _Gi melin._ ’ Glanduron murmured, pressing his lips upon Thranduil’s forehead.

‘Good morning, _meleth_.’ The Elvenking murmured softly, pulling his husband down to kiss him once more.

The night prior had been taxing for all. Thranduil had given all the announcement that they can stay at their homes to rest or to work as long as it would help them. Even Thranduil knew he was not well enough emotionally speaking to entertain anyone beyond his family and his most trusted. The sight of his husband having that gentle smile on his face as he greeted Thranduil was enough to soothe the haunting memories that had plagued his dreams.

‘You struggled in your sleep last night.’ Glanduron said gently as he handed a goblet of water to him.

Accepting his husband’s goblet, Thranduil did not respond and only looked at the clear liquid within. Feeling strong arms embrace him, Thranduil closed his eyes and let out a trembling breath.

‘You are far away from me, _Beltaur nin_.’ Came his husband’s voice, coaxing and gentle. ‘Where have you gone?’

‘The Last Alliance.’ Thranduil murmured softly. ‘Only...Celairithil perished with _Adar_. As did Lagoryn and Raudoron.’

He felt the embrace tighten and Thranduil did not object to it.

‘I sometimes wish you did not have to march to the mountain that day.’

‘You speak as if it had been years since the battle.’

Glanduron was silent and Thranduil knew what his husband meant. Glanduron had always protected him and Celairithil from the memories their minds replayed frequently. He knew what would lead to Thranduil’s nightmares or what would lead to Celairithil lashing out violently. And he would always keep them both away from it. Taking a sip of the water, Thranduil returned the goblet to Glanduron who set it by their bedside. Turning to face him, the Elvenking smiled quietly.

‘I greatly appreciate your worries, _meleth_.’ And he meant every word of it. As he was about to speak, he heard the voice of Feren’s daughter and he sighed.

‘What is it, Anoriel?’ He called out.

The heavy velvet curtain was pushed aside and the _peredhel_ entered, an anxious expression on her face. Thranduil gestured for her to speak as he rose from the bed and pulled on a nearby tunic.

‘Your Majesty, Captain Gilrendis had returned from scouting.’ Thranduil did not respond. That was expected, he expected a report saying that nothing had happened in that scouting assignment seeing as nothing _should_ have happened. Not with the state of Dale, Erebor and the Woodland Realm being the messes it is right now and not when winter sinks its frosted claws deeper into the earth.

‘They had captured the King Under the Mountain and the Lord of the Iron Hills.’ 

Thranduil spat out a curse and he turned around abruptly, alarming the girl. He felt a flash of guilt at frightening her and told her to go to the kitchens so she may take her breakfast before he looked at Glanduron.

Glanduron only got up and began getting changed as well. Clenching his jaw, Thranduil took out a silver circlet he despised wearing and prepared himself to speak with the foolish king and lord.

* * *

Thorin did not know how long it had been since they were brought to the throne room to wait for Thranduil to judge them but he felt it to be well over an hour. Scowling at the guards keeping him from moving, Thorin snapped at them in Khuzdul which did nothing but raise a few eyebrows at him, unimpressed. Dáin, much to Thorin’s irritation, was silent and patiently waiting which had led to the sword being pointed at the dwarf lord being pulled away.

‘How long does it take for your king to make an appearance?’ Thorin snapped at last. ‘How long does he need to feed his vanity?’ 

He caught sight of the guards bristling visibly and he took a vicious pride that he was able to invoke a visible reaction from the otherwise impassive people. 

‘You _dare_ offer such disrespect to our king?’ The dainty-voiced she-elf snapped, her dark eyes flashing in fury. ‘Do you even _know_ what our people are going through right now?’ She hissed as she drew her blades.

The blond elf stopped her and pulled her away.

‘ _Daro_ , Pînmedliril.’ The blond elf hissed harshly before he led her beyond the throne room. 

Thorin smirked but he felt a sword being pointed at his throat.

‘You step out of line once more, _Doronamath_ and believe me, your stay in our home will be much _less_ forgiving.’ The auburn-haired she-elf threatened, her voice low.

‘ _Farn._ Gilrendis.’ Thranduil’s voice made Thorin feel a hate deep within him and as he watched the elf-king rise up to his throne, he sneered at the shimmering silver robes he wore.

As expected from an arrogant being such an elf.

When he caught sight of the dark-haired consort, he scoffed. He too was wearing shimmering silver robes and even had diamonds woven into his hair. He had thought the consort might have been better in comparison to the husband but the sight of him wearing such pompous clothes was enough for him to determine they were not different whatsoever.

‘If you would kindly stop gawking at my husband.’ Thranduil drawled out, his posture was stiff and straight in comparison to the lazy pose he had adopted when Thorin and his Company were captured.

Turning his attention to Thranduil, Thorin scowled and was about to respond when Dáin spoke.

‘Apologies, elf-king.’ The dwarf lord started, his Iron Hills brogue coming across as rougher than Thorin believed Dáin had intended. ‘We had forgotten the passes were closed-’

‘In the coming winter when snow is growing stronger?’ Thranduil interjected, his tone doubtful. 

Dáin shrugged unrepentantly. ‘Well the snow’s not yet thick, is it?’ The dwarf lord pointed out, raising a brow at the elf-king.

Thranduil was silent and Dáin pushed on.

‘We’re currently trying to hunt-’

‘The hobbit.’ 

Surprised at how the elf-king addressed his One, Thorin shot a look at Thranduil who met his gaze disinterestedly.

‘How am I not surprised.’ The elf-king said with a sigh as he rose from his throne. ‘I will write a missive to your advisor. Balin, was it? We will discuss the course of action necessary.’

‘Then you will know the lie that my Company had been fed.’ Thorin spat out. 

Thranduil paused in his steps and looked at Thorin expectantly.

‘They believed Bilbo to be dead.’

He heard Thranduil’s consort mutter something sharply but Thorin only kept his gaze on the elf-king who looked at him with mild surprise. Thranduil did not speak and Thorin did not know whether to be grateful or to curse the elf-king for his silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Gi melin - I love you. (informal)  
> Meleth - Love  
> Beltaur nin - My strong forest  
> Adar - Father (formal)  
> Peredhel - Half-Elf  
> Daro - Stop  
> Doronamath - Oakshield  
> Farn - Enough
> 
> A pretty short chapter but I hope you like this regardless! Next chapter might have Bilbo speaking with Legolas interspersed with Thranduil speaking with Thorin maybe civilly hopefully?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here's chapter 14 and well, maybe in a few chapters we might get a reunion, we might not! Thanks so much for the continued support for this story, I greatly appreciate it!

Thranduil shared a look with Glanduron who was speaking rapidly with Gilrendis. He sighed and barked out an order to release the two dwarven nobles. He noticed the surprised expressions of both his soldiers and Oakenshield but he ignored them and went down the steps from his throne. Approaching Glanduron, Thranduil looked at his husband who gestured vaguely to a side room which he followed the healer to.

‘What now? Thranduil I will not lie to him of Bilbo’s death.’ Glanduron hissed as they shut the door behind them. 

Thranduil grimaced and he looked at his husband’s concerned expression. He understood Glanduron’s concern and he would not be the first to have such a concern.

‘I refuse to lie about such a grim thing as well,  _ meleth _ . But what can we do? I will not put Bilbo’s welfare at risk should the sight of Oakenshield trigger any upset within him.’ Thranduil rubbed his face and he sighed. ‘How quickly do you think we could organise a council meeting?’ He asked carefully. ‘I feel this may lead to more strife between our people and Erebor’s if we withhold Bilbo from their king but I will not give up the hobbit if you still sense the damages he had endured.’

‘I still do.’ Glanduron answered with a grimace. ‘I can round up our council in awhile but what of your brothers?’ his husband asked as he made to leave.

‘I will send a falcon to them, they will know what it means by now.’ Thranduil answered wearily. ‘Though Raudoron is likely to arrive here first.’

Glanduron nodded and the couple left the side room. Looking at the two dwarf nobles, Thranduil gestured for them to follow him.

‘For the time being, you shall be in the guest quarters with guards posted at your doors. Servants will be sent to see to your needs but please do not wander around.’ Thranduil explained as he walked off. ‘I will be back shortly with my council, there are things to be discussed.’

Without waiting for Oakenshield’s reply, Thranduil shouted a command to Gilrendis and immediately, she and her cousin began leading the two towards one of the guest suites.

* * *

‘Hobbit politics are...confusing.’ Legolas said at last from where he lay.

Sitting up, Legolas wrinkled his nose in distaste and looked at Bilbo as if Bilbo had been speaking gibberish. It was quite an adorable sight, really. Seeing the elf prince with wildflowers stuck to his hair and grass staining his clothes.

‘Who offers kindness in exchange for favours?’ Legolas asked at last. ‘That simply sounds more like bartering than true kindness.’ 

Bilbo raised a brow at Legolas who continued on his rambling while brushing away the grass stains.

‘Isn’t that what your alliance with Erebor was like?’ Bilbo asked in turn. ‘You didn’t help the dwarves because the gems were never returned.’

Legolas went silent and looked at him strangely, his head tilting to one side. Pale grey eyes seemed to read him but then he saw the playfulness return and he shook his head.

‘You will learn about the truth in due time,  _ honeg. _ ’ Legolas said at last. ‘For now, we need to start with you accepting our care for you, alright?’

Reluctantly, Bilbo agreed. Legolas had been patient with him when he told his tale. How kindness offered to him was merely because he was a gentlehobbit who was the son of a Took and a Baggins making him very influential in spite of being a social outcast. How he received favours in exchange for further favours and how every help given to him was never simply for the sake of “ _ just because”  _ so much “as  _ as long as you” _ . Apparently, to the elf prince, this revelation was distasteful and it was not the Wood-Elves’ way to do such a thing.

‘Bilbo, perhaps we could start with something simple.’ Legolas said with a smile. ‘Accept Anoriel as your assistant. This one is more familiar for you, yes?’ 

Bilbo was silent. Anoriel seemed to be an agreeable girl but he truly didn’t know if he needed an assistant. He wasn’t too far along yet and he doubted if he would even be able to carry to term. He was just going about this one day at a time.

‘Bilbo?’ Legolas asked again. ‘We want to help you, please allow us?’

Biting his lip, Bilbo sighed. ‘I want to try but Legolas, has it ever occurred to you that I may not even be able to carry to term?’

Legolas was silent as if mulling over the possibility. Looking at Bilbo, the elf prince awkwardly offered his hand for the hobbit to take.

‘My skills in healing are very little and I had already killed which dulls my abilities further but  _ Adar _ is quite skilled in the arts and had taught me some things.’ He said at last. ‘I can try and see how the babe fares.’ 

Silently, Bilbo nods.

* * *

‘I will not have those elves aid me again Dáin.’ Thorin announced simply.

Dáin looked up from the book he’d been trying to read for the better part of an hour.

‘Then don’t.’ He said simply. ‘Thorin, you can whine and be an absolute toddler about this but I’m no’ about to be petty to someone who runs a kingdom who could provide food supplies to Erebor in her time of need  _ and _ have short and safe passages for caravans to take to and from Erebor.’ The dwarf lord said simply before looking at the book once more.

Thorin scowled and threw a dark glare at Dáin who met his gaze evenly when he felt the King Under the Mountain’s glare upon him.

‘Thorin, you’re no longer in exile.’ Dáin pointed out simply. ‘You’re a king now, don’t you think it’s about time you act like one?’ 

Thorin clenched his jaw and looked away from Dáin. Of course, it was easy for Dáin to say this. He had always been a dwarf lord with his own kingdom having experienced little to no strife. Thorin had had to claw his way up to a shaky and stable ground just to sustain his people by selling his wares to  _ Men _ .

Dáin did not know the world the way Thorin had.

A quiet knock sounded on the door and Dáin called out permission to enter. A young elf lad entered, his hair had been braided to form a bun - to both dwarf lords’ surprise - and he looked mildly unsure for a moment before he looked at Dáin to address him.

‘King Thranduil and his council seek your attendance. It is concerning the hobbit, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire.’ He announced at last. ‘Kindly follow me.’

Dáin stood up and looked expectantly at Thorin whose scowl only grew deeper. Following the two, Thorin noted how the elf lad led them through various twists and turns until they came upon a room with double doors. Pushing the doors open, Thorin caught sight of the elf-king and his consort at the very head of the table but following that were various elves. Among those of the table, Thorin recognised the auburn-haired she-elf and he could vaguely recognise the elf with the dark brown hair but he was not certain as to where he’d seen him.

‘I believe we have matters to discuss.’ Thranduil said, gesturing for them both to sit at the bottom of the table. 

* * *

Legolas had taken them back home and had done as Bilbo asked. The sight of the elf prince’s eyes glowing bright to the point of almost being white concerned Bilbo but as Legolas drew his hand away from the hobbit’s belly, his grey eyes returned and he met Bilbo’s concerned gaze and he smiled reassuringly.

‘The child is quite alright.’ He said simply. ‘I haven’t the foggiest clue how to best explain this but trust me in that I’ve seen how it fares and it is alright. Keep away from stress and do not seek trouble where you go and I think all will be well.’ 

Ruffling Bilbo’s hair, the elf prince began making his way out of the room. As if remembering something, Legolas paused and looked at Bilbo.

‘Ask  _ Adar _ later to check on you. He is more qualified than I am.’

Bilbo nodded and thanked the elf prince who smiled brightly and left the room. The hobbit was not expecting another guest but then he heard a familiar soft voice asking for permission to enter which Bilbo gave. Anoriel entered, balancing a tray of food and a glass pitcher full of what Bilbo believed was juice which she was holding with two hands while underneath her arm was what appeared to be a folding table of sorts.

‘I do not know how frequently hobbits eat so I took some food from the kitchens when I heard you and Legolas return.’ She explained. ‘And I also had asked my brother to help build this folding table until I get permission from His Majesty to transfer one of the smaller tables here.’

Bilbo watched as Anoriel set the tray down and began unfolding the table and assembling it so that Bilbo can’t even find the seams. With that done, she arranged his meal on the table and had even poured out his juice in a glass.

‘Please do not hesitate to summon me if needed.’

Bilbo watched as she retreated and he thought over that he may not have needed an assistant as of the moment but he did always need company. Though he liked claiming he was a recluse that was perfectly alright with his predicament in life, Bilbo knew that hobbits always needed family and friends in pregnancy. 

‘Anoriel, will you stay?’ He asked hesitantly.

He watched her as she turned to look at him in surprise before she bowed her head in acceptance to his invitation. 

‘As long as I am welcome, Master Baggins.’ She responded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Meleth - Love  
> Honeg - Brother (informal)
> 
> So not much happens here but hey, remember how Thorin can't let go of a grudge? The truth is gonna be revealed very shortly :3 Should I have a poll on whether or not the reunion should happen soon? Cause trust me I am pretty torn. x3 As always, comments for this are always greatly appreciated and it always helps motivate me in my writing! Thank you so much for the continued support!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a shortish chapter but here’s chapter 15 and I hope you guys like this! You get to find out how Thranduil organises his council at least. :3 oh and you start getting hints of the truth behind what the Woodland Realm did for Erebor. :3 I hope you guys enjoy this!

Thorin was silent as he regarded each member of the council present. None of them seemed to bear noble blood though they each held themselves with a level of dignity that the dwarven king scoffed at. One of those present was an elf with ash-blond hair, a walking stick laid upon his lap.

‘I believe introductions are in place.’ Thranduil began as he gestured for the council to rise.

‘I am Apharchlalaithon.’ The ash-blond elf introduced himself with a low bow before seating himself unsteadily.

‘Gilrendis, captain of the Woodland Realm’s Army.’ The auburn-haired she-elf said.

‘Sernirion.’ Said another. ‘Trusted captain of His Majesty’s army.’ 

‘Fairtanon.’ Added the elf seated beside Sernirion. ‘A soldier of the Woodland Realm.’

The vaguely familiar elf bowed to Thorin and met his gaze. ‘Feren, son of the Morningstar’s House. Captain of the Woodland Realm’s Army.’ He said at last. ‘It is good to see you once more, little prince.’ 

Thorin scowled at the epithet he was given but Dáin snorted in amusement.

‘Meranwar, also a captain.’ Said yet another elf, raising his hand in a two-fingered salute.

‘Idhorfiligon.’ Said a young-looking elf, an unsure smile gracing his lips for a moment before he seated himself.

‘Miwgostiel.’ Another she-elf said. She had not risen but was polishing twin blades on the table, her gaze boring in on Thorin as she spoke.

‘Minailothil.’ Said another, nodding to him before seating herself. 

With all present elves seated, Thorin looked around the table and noticed the two vacant seats. 

‘My brothers had been summoned but this council meeting is not for them to hear.’ Thranduil explained when he caught Thorin’s gaze.

‘None of your councilmembers seem to be of noble blood.’ Dáin said, his tone inoffensive.

Thranduil shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I seek counsel from those who are wise or who clearly know what it is they speak of. I do not seek counsel from those with the noble blood as they might not be competent advice.’ Thranduil explained before looking at his consort.

‘Shall we begin?’

* * *

‘You mean to tell me that a rumour was spread among the camps of Men that the hobbit died in battle?’ Thranduil asked carefully, his fingers steepled together, covering his lips.

Thorin grunted an affirmative.

‘And you do not believe it.’ Thranduil continued.

Raising a brow, Thorin scoffed at the Elvenking who only waited for his response. 

None came and Thranduil was about to move forward when Dáin spoke.

‘Dwarrows have a way to know if their One is dead.’ The dwarf lord explained. ‘We could feel it in our bones. But Ones among other races, well...our links with those might be weaker.’ 

‘Then how are you positive that the hobbit is alive?’ Miwgostiel asked, her eyes narrowed. ‘Weak bonds are never certain.’

The King Under the Mountain did not respond and even Dáin seemed to expect some explanation from that. 

‘Because you wedded the hobbit in spirit.’ Apharchlalaithon said, when the silence extended for too long.

Thorin’s head snapped up in surprise. His eyes burning with a demand for an explanation from the ash-blond elf but Apharchlalaithon spoke as if from a dream.

‘Elves know what their spouses feel, whether or not it is done out of love but once a soul is bound to one another, we feel it throughout.’

‘Bilbo is no  _ elf. _ ’ Thorin spat out hatefully.

At that, Glanduron spoke.

‘Did you get told of Bilbo’s family history?’ The healer asked gently. ‘About the  _ odd _ ancestor he had?’

Thorin looked at Glanduron strangely as if the consort had begun speaking in the orcs’ tongue. Glanduron nodded and looked at Thranduil as if seeking something from the Elvenking. Whatever it was the consort sought, he found it and looked as if to brace himself emotionally.

‘We had met your hobbit.’

Thorin spat out a curse in his tongue but Glanduron paid it no mind and continued to speak.

‘He is alive and well, I assure you.’

‘Then tell me where he is.’ The dwarf king demanded, his voice brooking no argument.

Apharchlalaithon held up a hand to stop the dwarf from making any movements.

‘I had seen him and I know he is not yet ready to see you.’ He said sternly. ‘Do  _ not _ seek him out.’

Thorin scowled at the ash-blond elf and was about to retort something when Apharchlalaithon continued.

‘If you truly love him,  _ Doronamath _ , then let him heal.’ 

Thorin fell silent.

A silence descended.

Thranduil cleared his throat. ‘Let us take a recess and then we can see what can be done about this.’ He said at last, his voice heavy with an exhaustion he felt in his very being.

* * *

‘They had had Bilbo all along.’ Thorin spat out as he paced within their suite.

Dáin was still silent, his brows knitted together in contemplation.

‘Thorin, they only said they  _ met _ your hobbit.’ The dwarf lord said at last. ‘Not that they  _ have _ him.’

Thorin ignored Dáin and continued pacing furiously. For a moment, Dáin worried over the state of the floor with the rate Thorin was going. But he knew the dwarf king will calm down in a while.

‘Dáin, why do you keep on defending them?’ Thorin snapped at last.

Dáin was silent before he looked at Thorin.

‘I’m not going to risk anything for your kingdom, Thorin.’ Dáin said simply. ‘And I’m not one to forget the help they’d given you when the Sacking happened.’ The dwarf lord added.

‘They did  _ nothing _ but let that worm continue to live in my home!’ Thorin snapped at Dáin.

‘That’s  _ it _ , you insufferable piece of  _ utterly rusted skillet _ !’ Dáin snarled, rising to his feet. ‘Are you forgetting the fact that I had to pass through this kingdom while I travelled to give my aid with my father, Thorin!’ He snapped, eyes blazing in frustration. ‘I  _ met _ dwarves of Erebor that had stayed in the Woodland Realm. I heard their story and you were welcome there! You lot left because Thranduil didn’t want to have his men killed in a fool’s errand!’ 

Thorin scoffed. ‘Those dwarves were not credible, they fell for the tricks of elves.’ He retorted.

‘Then I highly suggest you punish the sons of  _ Sindri _ herself then.’ Dâin snapped. ‘I got to talk to her and even met the elf hosting them. He was the amputee and believe me, Thorin. I saw  _ no _ trickery there beyond  _ genuine _ concern for  _ your _ people.’

Thorin fell silent. He hated the six months they had had to spend with the Mirkwood elves. Everyday, he joined the meeting with Hranduil to try and persuade him into lending his best archers to slay the dragon and everyday, Thranduil would tell them he will do no such thing. They would be told they were welcome but Thorin felt no love for a race who would not help his people.

‘They did  _ nothing _ for my people.’ He said, his tone final.

Dáin looked at him and he sighed in frustration. ‘So be it, Thorin.’

A knock was sounded on their door once more and the elf that had led them to the council chamber earlier peeked his head inside the room.

‘The recess is done.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Doronamath - Oakshield
> 
> Well this chapter uhhhh turned tense. Well here’s to hoping Bilbo isn’t dealing with that sort of tension on his end in the next chapter!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here's Chapter 16 and well, I hope you're excited to see where this goes!

‘You will take me to Bilbo or so help me, Thranduil. You will receive no trade from Erebor.’

The elf-king met Thorin’s gaze, his expression impassive.

‘You realise I am allied with the four strongholds of the Orocarni along with the Iron Hills? I can get whatever it is I seek from them and I would not be poorer for it.’ Was the easy reply.

‘You are entitled to nothing.’ Came one of the councilmembers’ voices. Thorin did not bother remembering his name. ‘Yet you speak as if you have the right to command us.’

Thorin was about to retort when Dáin placed a heavy hand on Thorin’s shoulder. Glaring at the dwarf lord, Dáin’s grip on him tightened.

‘What’s the course of action you would advise us?’ Dáin asked.

‘Do as Apharchlalaithon had advised.’ Thranduil said, gesturing to the ash-blond elf. ‘Let him heal. Give him time.’

Thorin grit his teeth together and rose from his seat before leaving the council room.

Dáin sighed and looked at Thranduil. ‘Apologies, Thorin had not had time to polish his kingly manners.’ The dwarf lord said before leaving the council room with a low bow, wishing to convey his apologies and respect to the elves.

* * *

Bilbo had gotten to know Anoriel fairly well in the hours they had spent with one another. Granted, she only spoke whenever he asked about her but he made sure to ask what he could without prying too deep in her family information. She was biologically Feren’s granddaughter but he had dissolved the placement of his son in his family tree and had raised Anoriel as his own child, Meludir was adopted after his parents were killed in a spider and orc attack, she had plans of studying scribing but instead joined the Woodland Realm’s Army and after the Battle, she had to resign to ease her father’s fears and had taken a job as Bilbo’s assistant.

‘Do you ever miss it?’ Bilbo asked as they were having their afternoon tea.

Anoriel looked at him inquiringly, her cup of tea was untouched.

‘Being in the army, joining your brother in scouting.’ The hobbit clarified.

Anoriel shook her head. ‘No. I am glad to have been of service to my king and people but...I think I would like to have a more quiet life now.’ She smiled and nodded at him. ‘And you?’

Bilbo was silent and though he knew he would feel nothing, he placed a hand on his belly. Taking a slow breath, the hobbit breathed out and he thought over everything he’d gone through. The Quest, the Battle, Thorin and the Company, the Woodland Realm.

‘I think a quiet life is something I’d want too.’

* * *

Legolas was speaking with some of the soldiers who had just returned from scouting when he saw Gelutanon approaching him. He noticed how there was a note held in the scout’s hand and the prince met Gelutanon halfway. The moment they were close enough, Gelutanon held out the note to Legolas who took it.

It was not sealed but he knew full well who wrote this when he caught sight of the patterns in the parchment that resembled leaves and vines. He opened the note and read what it was his father had to tell him.

_Thorin Oakenshield is here.  
_ _Have Felfendir, Pedwegion and Miludîn  
_ _resume their duties to guard Bilbo.  
_ _Offer them all necessary compensations for  
_ _interrupting their respite._

Legolas felt his breath stop for a short moment that had anyone who was not well-acquainted with the elf prince had seen this happen, they would not have known anything wrong. Gelutanon only bowed and left.

Legolas made for Miludîn’s home with haste.

* * *

Thranduil had ended the council meeting the moment Thorin had left. Though he knew it would have been better to continue discussing the matter, he knew as well that the risks run that Thorin may try his hand at how well his memory remembered the paths to the true kingdom of the Woodland Realm. When all had dispersed, Thranduil hurriedly wrote a note for Legolas and gave it to Gelutanon who had been waiting at the door. Thanking the young _ellon_ , Thranduil looked at Glanduron who was massaging his temples.

‘This turned out into more of a mess than I had thought.’ His consort muttered.

Sighing, Thranduil pulled Glanduron into his embrace, hoping to try and ease both his and his husband’s stress. Neither of them were comfortable in situations like these but they would still do it for the sake of those they care for.

‘Walk with me?’ Thranduil murmured, his voice soft.

Glanduron let out a tired breath. ‘Yes, please.’

* * *

Ever since his arrival in the Woodland Realm, Bilbo had not seen his guards in awhile. He did not complain about it as Thranduil had said that during their period of mourning, many of the Silvan elves would be visiting the homes of the grieving to aid them in their daily lives. 

So it was to his surprise that Anoriel had peeked her head into his room and announced that his guards were there. Bilbo told her to let them inside his room and he greeted Felfendir, Pedwegion and Miludîn with a smile.

‘Not that I’m telling you to go away, but what brought you three here?’ Bilbo asked as he invited for them to sit on his bed.

Felfendir shrugged nonchalantly.

‘Legolas told us His Majesty had ordered this and we complied.’

Bilbo frowned. Thranduil - from what he had seen - cared too much for his people to force them to ignore their grieving practices.

As if reading the hobbit’s concern, Felfendir smiled reassuringly at him and patted Bilbo’s head.

‘We do not mind, Master Baggins. Truly.’ The elf said, ‘Pedwegion, Miludîn and I were just going from house to house to offer them our help. Anything to keep us productive, we are glad to do.’

Bilbo let out an undignified snort and raised a brow at the three elves.

‘I’m afraid you three won’t find anything productive in this duty of yours to guard me.’ The hobbit said dryly. 

‘Unless we find something for you to do.’ Pedwegion said, a smile gracing his lips. ‘What do you enjoy doing, Master Baggins?’ 

Bilbo was silent for a moment and mulled over what he enjoyed.

‘Is there a library here? And a garden I can work in?’

His guards exchanged looks with one another and Pedwegion rose and ran out the room, shouting about something regarding permissions and wild gardens while Felfendir waited for Bilbo to catch up.

‘Shall we start with the easier area of our kingdom?’ Felfendir suggested. ‘We have a good library.’

* * *

Dáin was wandering through the palace and had asked a passing guard if they had a library which he was taken to. He had no special interest in reading, but he brought nothing with him to pass the time and so he decided he may as well see how well he could find anything that might catch his interest. Most of the contents in the library was in their dialect or a variant of the elvish tongue which Dáin steered clear of. When he caught sight of a shelf that had carvings in Westron, Dáin let out a relieved sigh and went to the bookshelf. Pulling out the first book inside it, Dáin looked at the title and raised a brow at it.

**_A Compilation of the Peredhel of Arda_ **

**_Written by Glanduron Bainotholion_ **

The dwarf lord was not skilled in speaking the elvish tongue - unlike his spouse and his heir - but he knew enough to be able to decipher what a peredhel was. Going to where the tables were, Dáin got onto the smaller seats - it was likely meant for elflings but he was not one to complain if the ones in the kingdom were freakishly tall beings of nature.

The first page had a disclaimer that the house of Eärendil was not part of this as the book was meant to document the various peredhel he had met during his travels in his youth along with the tales of the peredhel that were born in various parts of Arda that was told to him by his brothers-in-law. Flipping through pages absently, Dáin stopped when his eye caught a chapter that made him pause.

**_The Descendants of Elrinion and Gundahar Took_ **

**_THE SHIRE_ **

Flipping through the pages, Dáin frowned as he skimmed through pages of information. How Elrinion had borne Gundahar children and how the Tooks developed an ability to conceive regardless of sex. Those were fascinating to some small extent but that was not what the dwarf lord sought.

He stopped when he saw carefully inked pages and pages of family trees.

**_Belladonna Took-Baggins and Bungo Baggins_ **

Baggins.

That was the name of Thorin’s One.

Remembering the words of Apharchlalaithon about elves feeling their spouses’ undertakings, Dáin felt he may be starting to understand what was happening.

The door of the library opened and voices filtered in.

‘-I’m not quite sure what I would want to look for but I’m quite fond of reading about genealogy.’ A voice that Dáin was very certain was most definitely not elvish was heard.

‘I think I know just the right book for you.’ Came the voice of another man, this one sounded young and eager but Dáin was certain this one was hundreds of years older than him.

Not wanting to be seen and not wanting to cause any friction between his people and Thranduil’s, Dáin rushed to return to the Westron shelf and stilled when he caught sight of a hobbit with curly copper hair garbed in elvish robes.

‘Bugger.’ Was all Dáin said before the elves flanking the hobbit leapt into motion and knocked him unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhhh yeah, Dáin saw Bilbo but based from how he's acting he's not gonna be telling Thorin anytime soon. Then again, Felfendir and Miludîn did not react nicely to seeing him. Let's see how Bilbo reacts to Dáin in the next chapter! I hope you guys ended up enjoying this chapter as I did writing this! As always, comments are always welcome and motivates me to keep on writing!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Dáin gets to properly meet Bilbo. I can’t believe I’ve gotten to this point in my story yet but it’s here and Bilbo is meeting more people except Thorin but hey that’s fine!

When Dáin came to, he was inside a room that wasn’t the suite provided to him and before him was Thranduil who was massaging his forehead with his consort standing behind him, his hands on the Elvenking’s shoulder.

‘Was striking me unconscious really necessary?’ The dwarf lord asked as he tried to bring a hand up to his head only to be met by rope bindings.

Raising a brow, Dáin looked at Thranduil with an unasked question. Thranduil let out a slow breath and met his gaze evenly.

‘How much do you remember?’ Was the straightforward question.

‘I believe I saw the hobbit Thorin pines for.’ Dáin drawled out.

He heard the consort spit something out in the elven tongue and Dáin was certain it was a curse, but he chose not to comment on it. Instead, he met Thranduil’s gaze and decided he may as well put them at ease.

‘I assure you, Thranduil Elvenking, I’ll not tell this to Thorin.’ The dwarf lord vowed. ‘He’s in a state bad enough that he’d do something reckless and if what I think is the case behind you sheltering the hobbit is true, then…’ He shrugged. ‘I’ll not have him doing you, your kin and people any harm.’

‘Your words are only as good as your deeds.’ The consort, Glanduron, said sternly.

Dáin shrugged slightly. ‘Then you lot will have to trust in me for that.’ The dwarf lord easily. ‘We forged alliances through my son who had negotiated in my name, I suggest we try and find peace as heads of our kingdoms.’

Thranduil was silent and looked at his consort as if having a silent conversation with the dark-haired elf. After a few moments, Dáin saw Thranduil rise and take out a blade. There was the concern that he might be stabbed, but Dáin waited until Thranduil was near enough. When his bonds were cut, Dáin rose from where he was sat and thanked the two.

Thranduil pressed his lips together in a tight line and his consort spoke for him.

‘It was Bilbo that insisted you had done nothing to have gotten the reaction you had received.’

Dáin was silent at the revelation. 

‘May I speak with the hobbit?’ He asked at last, his voice gentled so as to show no ill intent. ‘You can assign guards to me if you wish. I merely want to thank him.’

* * *

Bilbo watched as Felfendir rapidly spoke with Pedwegion, the sand brown-haired elf’s hands fidgeting as he spoke. Miludîn stood at the doorway, keeping his attention on anyone that may come. Sighing, the hobbit looked at Anoriel who was only watching the three in confused amusement.

‘Really, I understand the protectiveness.’ Bilbo said. ‘But I’ve never met that dwarf in my life, so I...don’t feel as endangered as I did with Thorin.’ 

‘That is understandable.’ Anoriel replied. ‘You have no connection to him and so you sense no danger from him.’

‘I still advise you to be wary, Master Baggins.’ Felfendir said, his tone stern. ‘He has connections to Erebor and we cannot completely trust him yet.’

‘Or at all.’ Pedwegion responded with a scoff. ‘I’ve only met his heir and all I can say is that his son is agreeable, I’ve no clue about the dwarf lord himself.’

‘His Majesty is coming.’ Miludîn said abruptly. 

A hush fell on the room and Bilbo exchanged glances with Anoriel who rose to greet the Elvenking. When Thranduil entered, he placed a hand on Anoriel’s head and smiled at her before turning his attention to Bilbo.

‘Are you alright with admitting a guest here?’ Thranduil asked gently.

Bilbo raised a brow. He understood that Thranduil was likely asking this in regards to the dwarf that had found him. He had no quarrels or strife with Dáin Ironfoot and from what he’d seen, he was just minding his own business until they saw each other.

‘I see no harm in it.’ Bilbo replied. ‘I know you’re asking because the guest is Dáin.’ The hobbit added.

Thranduil chuckled. ‘Well, let it be known you are no fool.’ The Elvenking commented before calling out for his husband to enter with Dáin.

The dwarf lord looked at Bilbo curiously and though Bilbo felt uncomfortable at the dwarf lord’s assessing gaze, he was at least feeling not a shred of panic within him at the sight.

‘I’m no’ sure whether to apologise for _seeing_ you or to ask for an apology for being knocked unconscious _for_ seeing you.’ Dáin said at last.

Bilbo, to his surprise, laughed.

* * *

Thorin had locked himself inside the suite he shared with Dáin, his mind a torrent of emotions and very little expressed joy. He was happy, of course, at the knowledge that his One was alive. But rage also burned within him and betrayal. Hatred was a blade that cut deep within him at the mere knowledge that it was the elves that had stolen something important from him. Dáin refused to help him find Bilbo in the kingdom and had reminded him of the elves’ counsel which he refused to listen to.

He loved Bilbo.

Anyone should at least understand better than to try and separate two halves of a whole and yet these elves insist upon it. Rubbing his face roughly, Thorin sighed and got up from his bed. He will try and find Bilbo. Now that he was no longer a captive of Mirkwood, he can freely roam around and he knew the paths that he and his people were led through over a hundred years ago. Perhaps if he followed his memory, he may find his One and amends could be made.

Bolstered at the thought, Thorin left his suite and began wandering through the various twists and turns, certain of his path. Unbeknownst to him, grey eyes followed his every move.

* * *

‘When I’ve heard of you,I was expecting a soft but resilient being.’ Dáin told Bilbo as he accepted the cup of tea Anoriel had offered him. ‘Did not expect a well-loved elf-friend with dry wit and cleverness as well.’

Bilbo raised a brow and he smirked. ‘I’m assuming Thorin told you the worst parts of the journey?’ He asked.

The hobbit still felt fear and anxiety spoke up within him whenever he thought of Thorin, but there was no avoiding the mention of the dwarf king when in his presence.

‘You mean elf-kin.’ Thranduil interjected.

Dáin raised a brow at the Elvenking who looked at the dwarf lord as if daring him to say anything of the title.

‘I had claimed Bilbo as a member of my father’s house when I took him in.’ Thranduil explained, his tone hardened as if ready to hear insults from the dwarf.

Dáin hummed thoughtfully and stroked his beard. ‘Where does that put him in your family tree?’ He asked.

‘An adopted son.’ Thranduil answered easily.

Much to Bilbo’s surprise, Dáin responded by snorting and laughing, his body shaking with uncontrollable mirth. Bilbo shot a look at Thranduil who shrugged helplessly. Behind Thranduil, Glanduron was looking at Dáin with poorly concealed concern while Anoriel looked alarmed.

‘Are you alright?’ Bilbo asked hesitantly.

Still laughing, Dáin raised a hand as if requesting for a few more moments. When his laughter subsided minutely, Dáin wiped away tears that had come in his laughing fit. Looking at Bilbo and then at Thranduil, Dáin laughed again and shook his head.

‘Thorin is going to despise every minute of being here if he knew you now stand as Bilbo’s father.’ The dwarf lord said at last.

‘Which is why you will tell him nothing.’ Bilbo said, his tone sharp.

He knew that Dáin most likely meant nothing by it and only wished to tell a joke of sorts but the mere mention of Thorin sent him into feeling dread and fear once more. It was not as severe as when Bilbo had seen him during their departure but the reaction was bad enough that Bilbo reacted negatively.

‘Apologies, lad.’ Dáin said sincerely. ‘Remind me if I say anything too awful, aye? My spouse told me I had the habit of being dense in some situations.’

Surprised at the consideration, Bilbo nodded and thanked the dwarf for his apology. Dáin only grinned and said it was no trouble before looking at Thranduil.

‘I think I should go back now.’ Dáin said with a sigh. ‘Mahal only knows what Thorin might have gotten into while we were gone.’

Agreeing with the dwarf lord, Thranduil rose from his perch on Bilbo’s bed as well.

Looking at Bilbo a final time, Dáin bowed. ‘Take care, Bilbo Baggins. May Mahal guide you and guard you.’

‘You as well, Dáin. I pray Yavanna bless you and your family.’

When Dáin left, Bilbo had insisted on helping Anoriel with clearing up the tea things. Anoriel looked at Bilbo and she smiled at the hobbit who looked a bit more at ease.

‘New friends are always good to make.’ She remarked quietly.

Bilbo silently agreed with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we get sincere good boi Dáin, stubborn Thorin, Legolas keeping an eye on him and a new friendship developing. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it and as always please don’t hesitate to comment as it motivates me to keep writing!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So fun fact about this is that Thranduil has a glamour that numbs the constant pain of his injuries from the dragonfire and if he becomes too stressed or exhausted, his injuries show. He could drop the glamour for a short while but he would end up subjecting himself to a lot of pain that he doesn't do it much if at all.

The travel back to Dáin and Thorin’s suite was filled with silence but not uncomfortable. It was not comfortable either. It was just a silence one was aware of but not too bothered or unbothered with. Dáin did not mind it overmuch and instead found himself marvelling at the cleverness of the Mirkwood elves with having their hidden kingdom within the very depths of their cave systems. Granted, the fact that delegations and prisoners were given rooms or cells in the same cave systems was somewhat amusing for the dwarf lord as the thought of royalty and criminals being put at the same level by Thranduil’s people.

As the three arrived, they all stopped when they began hearing rough Khuzdul shouting followed by the furious shouts of the elf prince. Exchanging horrified looks, Dáin, Thranduil and Glanduron bolted in the direction the voices were echoing from. When they came to the two, Dáin stopped and he let out a sharp exhale.

‘ _ Legolas _ .’ Thranduil’s voice cut through the argument with his sharp tone.

Legolas paused and he looked at his father with wide eyes.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ Glanduron asked, his tone gentler but his eyes a snowstorm of warning.

Legolas, however, looked at both his fathers before grabbing Thorin by the collar and shoving the dwarf towards Dáin. A hardness had set in his grey eyes and a defiant clench was set in his jaw. Thranduil stepped towards his son and cupped Legolas’ cheek, a concerned look in the Elvenking’s eyes.

‘ _ Doronamath _ had found the pathway leading to our home.’ The elf prince said, his tone dripping with anger. ‘I tried to talk him out of doing what he wished but he was stubborn.’

Thranduil nodded and sighed. ‘Go home,  _ Mîwlas _ .’ The Elvenking bade his son gently.

‘What of the dwarf king?’ Legolas asked, his arms crossing.

‘We will handle this.’ Glanduron assured the boy as he began shepherding the elf prince towards the path Dáin and the two elf rulers had come from only moments prior.

Though the elf prince still looked at Thorin as one would an undesirable creature, and though he hesitated for a moment, Legolas sighed and left the four of them alone. When Thranduil was certain that Legolas had gone far away enough, Thranduil spun around to face Thorin, his eyes a blazing fire of rage.

‘Do we need to speak of your vows done ere your stay after the Sacking, Thráinul?’ The Elvenking snarled out.

Dáin shot a glare at Thorin who was meeting Thranduil’s gaze with the same self-righteous fury he met everyone’s kindnesses with.

Mahal help them all.

* * *

Thorin was taken to the empty council room and Thranduil bade his husband leave them be for now. To have a witness, he told Dáin to stay and the Elvenking took in a sharp breath.

‘When my people encountered yours, lost and starving in the Woodland Realm, we offered you sanctuary within our very homes.’ Thranduil said frostily. ‘Under the  _ one  _ condition that you respect our privacy and that once you leave, you do not attempt entry unless it is with our blessing.’ 

‘And yet Dáin was granted entry?’ Thorin retorted, his voice spilling forth the jealousy and rage in him. ‘I had played your game Thranduil, yet you keep my One from me as if it is a form of punishment!’ he continued, his lips curling into a snarl.

Thranduil could feel the carefully applied glamour on his face flickering and he flinched. Taking quiet breaths, the Elvenking stepped away from the dwarf king to keep a safe distance from him.

‘Dáin was granted entry because he did not mistreat any of us with verbal assaults.’ Thranduil said in a forced calm. ‘And I’ve yet to start any game with you or your kinsmen. I had done what I felt was right and I shall  _ never  _ apologise for it.’ 

‘Does that include refusing to aid my people?’ Thorin snapped back.

‘If you believe my sending my men there to die after many losses, then you are still clearly mad!’ Thranduil retorted.

‘My people were  _ homeless _ for nearly  _ two centuries _ !’ Thorin shouted.

‘My kingdom, my very people welcomed you all into our homes! We told you you were free to stay as long as needed!’ Thranduil snapped. ‘But what you sought from me was not shelter or supplies, you wished for my army to storm a freshly invaded mountain with an enraged dragon!’

‘And what of my company’s capture!’ Thorin spat out. ‘Surely we had done nothing wrong in our travels!’

‘You trespassed without a blasted permit, Oakenshield! We were keeping you safe from the dangers of our very homes!’ Thranduil cried out, his voice bleeding with frustration. ‘You cling onto past faults and slights that only you had perceived and planted discord and strife between our people when we meant no harm or insult to your people!’

Thorin met Thranduil’s gaze and for a moment, Thorin saw the glamour of the elf king flicker once more and Thranduil flinched again, his breathing growing unsteady.

‘I will not speak to you further on this subject.’ Thranduil ground out. ‘Just know that your people were never mistreated and neither were you in the duration of your stay here. I suggest you reassess your memories and see if you had warped your treatment in your mind.’ 

* * *

Glanduron had been pacing in front of the council room and he was aware of his husband’s shouting. He could hear the fury and frustration bleeding through the echoing chamber and Glanduron stopped himself from flinching. Thranduil had been under stress and grief already, any further pressing and he worried for the effect of the numbing agent he had applied after Celairithil’s death.

Then the door opened and the healer stopped himself from cursing. He instead held a hand out for Thranduil to press his face against. Focusing on the flickering glamour, Glanduron pushed past the turmoil he felt within Thranduil and he could feel the glamour strengthening once more. He felt the fading pain his husband felt and Glanduron stopped, seeing Thranduil looking at him with exhausted eyes. Taking hold of Thranduil’s hand, Glanduron led him away.

‘Let me take care of you tonight,  _ meleth _ .’ Glanduron murmured quietly to his husband.

Passing by a guard, Glanduron gave instructions to them and bade them keep an eye over Oakenshield should he do anything that would be needing any reports from them. When Glanduron and Thranduil returned home, Legolas met them and saw Thranduil, a concerned glance to his other father answered all he needed and the prince nodded.

‘ _ Adar _ , let me serve as a regent for now.’ He told Glanduron. ‘You and  _ Ada  _ need to rest and I had helped the nearby grieving families. My duties are fulfilled.’

Cupping Legolas’ cheek, Glanduron nodded. ‘Only if you are certain,  _ ionneg _ .’ Glanduron said gently.

Legolas nodded and left to go to Bilbo’s room. With their son reassured, Glanduron guided Thranduil up the steps and into their room. Helping his husband undress, Glanduron laid beside Thranduil and held him close.

* * *

‘You fucking git, Thorin.’ Dáin hissed to Thorin. ‘Were you planning on getting Thranduil killed!’

‘He was able to withstand revealing his scars to me before/’ Thorin replied, his brows knitting together.

‘D’you honestly think he’d need a glamour if he could withstand the constant pain!’ The dwarf lord retorted, his eyes flashing in a dare. ‘It’s like saying I’d get along quite fine in life if I remove my bloody prosthetic!’ Dáin exclaimed, gesturing to the iron leg attached to him.

Thorin shot a dark glare at Dáin who threw his hands up in frustration and left him alone in their suite’s sitting room, slamming the door to his room shut.

Thorin remained where he sat and looked at the suite. This was not where he had stayed in after the Sacking. He was offered sanctuary by the dark-haired elf who called him “little prince”. All he had were faint memories that were wrought with anger and resentment but he had vague memories of the dark-haired elf’s children being amiable to him and even teaching Frerin how to handle a bow and arrow in their way.

_ Why  _ did  _ I despise them so? _

Rubbing his face, Thorin sighed. 

Perhaps the morning shall bring him answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I think we're starting to get through to Thorin at least! That's the upside on that end haha but the downside is that we get Thranduil being overstressed. qwq I hope you guys liked this! As always, comments make me motivated to keep on writing~


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the last chapters before a time skip of winter! I want to thank you all for your continued support for this fic and I greatly appreciate your comments as it keeps me motivated to keep on writing! Thank you so much!!

The morning did not bring answers.

Thorin awoke having had no epiphany in regards to what he was told and he did not feel any different towards the elves either. Sighing, the dwarf king began making his way to the council room when he was greeted by the elf prince. To his surprise, the princeling was wearing the circlet his father was wearing the day prior and he was nor wearing the informal silver tunic of the day prior but a flowing robe of shimmering fabric.

‘Trying to be like your sire, boy?’ Thorin grunted out.

He saw the elf prince’s eyes narrow at him and his lips pressed together as if to quell his anger.

‘I stand as regent today, _Doronamath._ ’ The elf prince replied frostily. ‘And today, I return you to your people whether you like it or not.’ 

Thorin scowled at the elf prince and was about to protest when he felt the prince’s hands tight on his shoulders.

‘Winter is to fall soon, Thráinul, your people need a king and I suggest you set the matter aside regarding Bilbo.’

Thorin bristled at the casual use of his One’s name. The sheer audacity of it. As if they had the right after they had done nothing but to hide his One from him.

As if oblivious to the offence he had taken from the elf prince’s words, the blond elf walked away and was immediately approached by the ones Thorin had identified as captains of Mirkwood’s army.

Thorin was about to see if he could find a way to get the elf prince to give them another day at least but then he was led back to his suite with Dáin by one of the guards who Thorin recognised as one of the members of Thranduil’s council.

‘I will not even be granted permission to see my One before my departure?’ He asked, displeasure colouring his tone. The guard escorting him looked at him with a considering expression before he shook his head.

‘Apharchlalaithon is among our eldest in the council aside from His Majesty and a select few others. His counsel is sound and he is correct in that if you truly love Master Baggins, you would give him time to heal.’

Thorin clenched his jaw and walked faster towards his suite.

* * *

Bilbo had woken to hear Thranduil and Glanduron speaking with one another. Sitting up, Bilbo sighed and went to the pitcher of water at his vanity where the porcelain basin was situated as well. He did not know how early Anoriel woke for this but she always had the heated water and cooled water set there before he woke but she always had it at the ready. Distantly, he could hear Thranduil and Glanduron speaking with one another, attempting to keep quiet.

‘-certain he is making the right decision?’ Glanduron’s voice filtered in.

‘Winter is coming fast, we must ensure all kingdoms have their leaders. Even the obstinate ones.’

‘This is not our duty, Thranduil.’

‘But we must still do this. Erebor is but a fledgling kingdom once more. They will be in need of their king.’

‘The Heir Apparent seemed to be more promising than Oakenshield.’

‘Still, it would be good for the son of Thráin to return home. Perhaps _rhîw_ shall give him time to calm himself.’

Bilbo bit his lip. He was aware Thorin was in the Woodland Realm. After all, why else would a dwarf be here? For all Dáin’s amiability, he was under no illusion that Dáin was here on a diplomatic visit. Bilbo may not understand the ways of the world beyond the Shire too much but he knew enough to know that dwarves would not so willingly seek elves out. The news of Thorin leaving relieved him, but somehow still left him wishing to see Thorin even from a distance. Perhaps far enough that their eyes would not meet.

He was not yet ready to see those eyes that looked so hatefully at him a week ago.

Making a decision, Bilbo went to the bell cord that summons Anoriel from her quarters and pulled.

* * *

‘Well, that whole journey was a buggering pile of nothing.’ Dáin grunted as he was getting dressed after washing himself. ‘It’s a good thing the prince was willing to give us supplies and have some of his men take us back to Erebor.’

Thorin scowled at the dwarf lord and crossed his arms. ‘It was fruitless for me, you were fortunate enough to see Bilbo.’ He bit out, his teeth clenching together for a moment.

Dáin looked at him, unimpressed. ‘Thorin, I wanted to thank the hobbit since he saw to it I wasn’t accused of doing anything because of your impulsive thought processes.’ 

Thorin’s scowl darkened further. Was everything to be his fault then? He meant no harm to his One and had been unable to stop himself!

‘I will see you at the stables.’ He muttered, stalking away.

* * *

Anoriel had helped Bilbo find a secret place in the cave system that showed him a good view of where Thorin and Dáin shall be passing through. Granted, it was quite high up and cold but fortunately, Anoriel had taken her brother along to keep an eye on him and they helped him onto a more secure part while they perched on either the ledge of the window-like opening or went outside of the opening and sat on a branch.

‘Are you certain you want this, Bilbo?’ Anoriel asked gently, having wrapped him securely with a heavy cloak.

‘Well, the three lads aren’t here yet and I...I suppose I would like to say goodbye to him. Even from afar.’ He mumbled.

Anoriel’s brother, Meludir, looked at Bilbo in confusion before looking expectantly at the snow covered ground from his perch on the branch.

‘I will never wholly understand why you would wish to see the one who had designs to harm you and your child.’ The soldier confessed, his brows furrowing.

Bilbo did not answer. He did not know the answer behind that either. He did not want to see Thorin face to face, but from a distance...it felt safer than when their eyes met. It felt like he could love Thorin from a distance where he would not have to fear for his life. That perhaps, if he kept this distance between them, he would not have to feel the chilling fear consume him and feel that fear within him when his child is born.

‘Bilbo.’ Anoriel’s voice broke through his thoughts and keeping a tight grip on his assistant, Bilbo caught sight of Thorin on the back of an elven cart, draped on his shoulders was a heavy fur cloak and his raven hair flew wildly in the wind.

It made a part of Bilbo ache for his touch and gentle smiles.

It made another part flinch and recoil from the sight.

‘Shall we get back?’ Meludir’s voice came through to Bilbo and the hobbit watched the soldier come back inside the cave and steadied himself by bracing his hand against the wall.

Bilbo nodded. He was certain his guards would be fearing for his safety right about now.

* * *

They arrived in Erebor at nightfall and Thorin was surprised at how smoothly everything was running. He could hear Fíli directing everyone and even helping where he could,the moment they pepped in. He saw Men helping his people with barring the gates the best way they could and the Great Hall had an impromptu fire set in the middle where various camps had been set up.

‘It’s only temporary.’ Fíli explained as he limped towards Thorin. ‘Until we get everything sorted out when Dáin’s spouse comes in, we’ll all sleep here so that we could make sure we all share body heat.’

Thorin nodded. It was sensible.

‘Aye, well for now, that’s about as good as we’ll get.’ Dáin sighed, ‘I’ll go see where Torsten’s at.’ He muttered, clapping Thorin on the shoulder harder than needed.

‘He’s sparring with Kíli.’ Fíli called after Dáin before going off to lead the dwarf lord to his son.

‘Thorin!’ He heard a familiar, furious growl and Thorin cringed inwardly. He turned round to face Dwalin who was charging towards him. ‘You bloody, stone-headed, _idiotic_ -’ Thorin felt himself being yanked forward and he felt his head connect with Dwalin’s with a loud crack and Thorin grimaced. ‘You and Balin’ll be havin’ words.’ Dwalin growled. ‘I had to delay writing to my One and sons ‘cause you left.’

Thorin felt guilt for a moment. He remembered Lady Golbahar, the ruler of the Northern Orocarni, he also remembered how Dwalin had promised her that they shall speak of their wedding after Erebor’s reclamation. His best friend had _every_ right to be furious with him.

‘I suspect mere apologies are insufficient.’ Thorin offered.

‘Indeed it is not.’ The familiar voice of the wizard answered and Thorin stilled. Turning around, Thorin looked at Tharkûn who looked at him as a disappointed grandfather would. ‘Thorin, son of Thráin, I believe you have some explanations you owe us all.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Doronamath - Oakenshield  
> Rhîw - Winter
> 
> Well, uhhhh Thorin owes some people explanations, Bilbo still has to work through what he feels about Thorin and hey, at least everyone is being cooperative with each other! As always' comments are greatly appreciated and it always helps me stay motivated to keep on writing, thanks so much for your continued support!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is the last chapter before the time skip. There will be two perspectives for the time skips. One for Thorin and one for Bilbo and just so you know, this chapter ends with Thorin having a very upset nephew to talk to and I hope you like this even if this is a bit of a Debbie downer ending for the chapter. Also, the truth or most of it is revealed to the younger members of the Company!

‘Alright, laddie, explain what was going through your head when you decided to leave the mountain.’ Balin said, his tone disapproving.

Thorin grimaced. He knew better than to excuse his actions from Balin and he would be quite foolish if he still made any attempts to fool the white-haired dwarf. Looking at the Company that had gathered in a private area of the Great Hall, Thorin tried to think of the best way to tell them all he knew.

‘Thorin.’ Balin repeated.

‘I left to look for Bilbo.’ He said at last. 

He heard several members of his company curse and some of them looked at him with pity as if he was in denial. Bristling slightly, Thorin shot a warning look at them.

‘Dáin and I reached Mirkwood when we were accosted by the elves.’

He was aware of Gandalf muttering something in frustration but Thorin ignored the wizard. He’d done nothing to help thus far and he was in no position to actually tell him what he was doing was anything wrong.

‘In Mirkwood, I found the answer I sought.’ Thorin explained. ‘Thranduil and his council revealed to me that Bilbo was alive and that his people were hosting him.’

As he expected, outraged cries rang out. Shouts of anger and betrayal were heard. Thorin crossed his arms and raised a brow at them.

‘I am well aware you had all doubted my bond with Bilbo due to him being of another race, but I assure you that my bond is strong enough that I know Bilbo still lives.’ Thorin said. ‘I tried to have the elves show Bilbo to me but they refused, claiming that he was still healing from the battle. I was told that I must keep away from Bilbo if I truly loved him.’

‘And they think _they_ have the right to keep _our_ hobbit?’ Glóin asked, his voice thunderous.

‘It seems to be that way.’ Thorin replied, his brows furrowing.

‘Uncle, you _did_ try to _kill_ him.’ Fíli said, his voice hesitant. ‘The elves might just want to help Bilbo.’

Thorin looked at Fíli, betrayed. His heir only met his gaze with concern written on his face. Beside him, Balin was clearly mulling something over while looking around Erebor.

‘I’d say Thranduil had made the right choice.’ Gandalf said simply. ‘Erebor is no place for a hobbit.’ 

Thorin scowled at the wizard. ‘Erebor would welcome Bilbo quite well and we would try to meet his needs.’ The dwarf king argued.

Tharkûn only looked at him as if he were speaking nonsense. ‘Not if the kingdom looks like ruins, Thorin.’ The wizard said sternly. ‘I'm well aware you would want Bilbo back with you, but you must remember that he is from a land that does not always have to endure harsh winters save for a few dire occasions.’

‘And we would do what we could to keep him from experiencing discomfort.’ Thorin insisted.

‘Thorin, that is enough!’ Gandalf snapped. ‘The elves had done what they believe is best for Bilbo and I am inclined to agree with their decision.’ The wizard spoke with a tone of finality, glaring at Thorin as if daring the dwarf king to speak another word of their current quarrel. 

‘Bilbo _belongs_ in Erebor away from a rotting forest where elves are likely to look down on him.’ He spat out.

‘And tell me, Thorin, son of Thráin, _when_ did the Silvan elves look down on _you_?’ Gandalf replied, his eyes narrowing. ‘Or have you been feeding your nephews and Ori _lies_ throughout their lives?’

Thorin spat a curse at the wizard and stormed off, ignoring Fíli’s questions and Kíli’s demands for an answer.

* * *

Gandalf sighed and was about to leave the Company when he heard Ori call out to him. 

‘Gandalf, Thorin never told me anything about the elves.’

Turning to face Ori, Gandalf raised his brows at the young dwarrow who shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

‘Then what do you know of the history of Erebor after the Sacking?’ The wizard asked, his eyes glinting curiously.

The scribe looked around as if trying to find a way to tell without it being heard before his brothers approached and he sighed. Dori looked at Ori in concern and Ori whispered something to Dori who responded quickly. Nori, looked at Gandalf and he gestured for the wizard to sit down.

‘Right, all of you, let’s all see how well your memories are compared to me an’ Dori.’ The thief said, his tone brooking a challenge to the other members of the company.

At once, Bofur, Bombur and Bifur raised their hands as if to surrender and Bofur grinned.

‘Weren’t at the Sacking, we’re disqualified now.’ The miner said with a chuckle.

Nori rolled his eyes. ‘Right, you three just listen.’

Nori looked at Glóin expectantly who sighed. ‘My memory about everything after the Sacking was a haze, we best turn to Óin for anything of import.’ 

Nori sighed and looked at the healer. ‘Oi, Óin, we’ve got a question for you!’ He shouted. The healer looked at Nori, eyes narrowing.

‘What do you lot want to know?’ He asked gruffly.

Glóin repeated the question and Óin raised a brow.

‘I was only a wee bit older than you, but what I managed to remember was that we stayed in Mirkwood for a bit with the elves.’ Óin shrugged. ‘Wasn’t too awful but Adad was angry and grieving. I was angry for awhile too.’

Balin sighed and looked at everyone in the Company. ‘I could give a fair recounting of everything that had happened to our people after Smaug came.’

‘I’ll join in as well.’ Dori cut in. ‘Our Amad had stayed in the Woodland Realm for over eight years so Nori and I’ve got a good grasp on how we were treated.’

Balin nodded. ‘The elves offered us all shelter in Erebor and they doted on the younger ones. They weren’t turning any of us away.’ The white-haired dwarf explained.

‘But Uncle said that the elves did nothing for us.’ Kíli said in confusion. ‘Though Torsten _did_ say that the Mirkwood elves are polite if you’re polite too.’

‘Dáin’s son is right in that, Kíli.’ Balin nodded. ‘Thorin...well, he was angry and bitter about what happened and every day he would accompany his father and grandfather to ask for Thranduil to send his army to kill Smaug.’

‘Well, why _didn’t_ he?’ Kíli asked.

Balin was silent before he shook his head. ‘That, I do not know myself. But I can assure you this, the elves were not hostile to us when Erebor was invaded, they had been a good ally to us and I can always appreciate what help they had given to us all.’

Dwalin was silent for a moment before looking at Dori who had looked at his brothers. Dwalin only remembered a few things from their time in Mirkwood after the Sacking. But what he was able to remember was how some elves would try to engage with him during sparring and how he would gruffly tell them he preferred to be alone. He was left alone after that. The soldier had to think for a moment whether or not that was because he had treated them coldly or if they did not really wish to get to know his people’s ways.

‘And what of you, Dori? How was Mirkwood for you?’ Dwalin asked, trying to keep his tone careful.

The silver-haired dwarf looked at him before he shrugged.

‘The elf that gave us his home to live in with him was someone _Amad_ called Beri, we called him _Adad_ because he was more of a father than our sires. Had ash-blond hair and was very patient with us and kind.’ Dori smiled at last and looked at Nori. ‘The eight years we spent with him was peaceful and we didn’t want for anything. A year later after Amad took us to Ered Luin, Ori was born and we _knew_ who sired him.’

Ori looked at Dori and the older dwarrow saw curiosity burning in his brother’s gaze. Dori reached out and squeezed his brother’s hand, promising to tell him later.

‘Excuse me.’ Fíli muttered, bowing to the others before marching off to seek his uncle out.

* * *

Thorin was in his study once more, trying to think of the best ways to get Bilbo back when he heard the door to the study open.

‘Uncle, Dori and Balin told us everything. You _weren’t_ abandoned by King Thranduil.’ Fíli spoke accusingly. ‘All my life, you raised me and Kíli under the belief that you had no one that allied with you, no one that lent aid beyond our people. You raised us _believing_ that King Thranduil was a cold and selfish being who abandoned Erebor in her time of need all because _your_ grandfather did not return the jewels that were not even _his_ to begin with. And all of it. Everything you said was a lie?’ 

Thorin looked at his nephew, his pale eyes ablaze with anger and betrayal and in that moment, Thorin felt guilt lance through him. He looked at Fíli and recalled the coldness he had treated the boy, believing that his father and grandfather’s way of raising him was correct. And of course, he also lied to him about history.

‘ _Irakdashat_.’ He started, his tone regretful.

Fíli backed away and shook his head.

‘Don’t.’ His heir spat out. ‘I’ve had to learn to run the mountain without you, Uncle! I’ve had to be king while you went off to try and win Bilbo back after _everything_ you’ve done and then I learn that everything you’ve told me, you’ve taught me, everything was just a _lie_?’ Stepping further away from Thorin, Fíli looked at him, not with hate but with disappointment. ‘Open your eyes, Uncle. I’m tired of having to try and carry everything on my shoulders when you decide something is worth more than another.’

Thorin was silent when Fíli left and he stayed there, trying to gather his thoughts after everything his nephew had told him. Slumping onto his seat, Thorin massaged his temples and sighed.

He had been quite a terrible king by far, hadn’t he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Adad - Father  
> Amad - Mother  
> Irakdashat - Nephew
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter since this was quite interesting to write! As always I hope you guys won’t hesitate to comment as I always enjoy reading what you think of it and it keeps me motivated to keep on writing! Thanks so much for your continued support, I appreciate it all so much!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time skip time!

The winter passed.

And through that winter, Bilbo learned once more how it was that a family treated each other. Ever since Thorin and Dáin had departed from the Woodland Realm, Bilbo noticed how the duties regarding the kingdom lessened during the winter. When the hobbit asked Thranduil for the reason, Thranduil explained that wintertime was a time of rest and that the kingdom runs quite smoothly even without him micromanaging every little detail. Every morning, Bilbo would dine with Anoriel and one member or the whole of Oropher’s house. Bilbo got to know each of his friends and newfound family further. He learned that Legolas had a horrible tendency to climb up on terraces when he heard shouting from Thranduil and Glanduron’s chambers - apparently the prince had decided to intrude his fathers’ _private_ time to see if they would want a snack, Bilbo suspected Legolas just wanted to surprise them - he also learned that Thranduil had a terrible sweet tooth when the Elvenking spent the afternoon with him and had shown Bilbo how to make Silvan cheesecake that was sweeter than how it should be. It was nothing like the version that the Shire had but Bilbo had nothing to complain about as the cake tasted quite good in spite of its offensively sweet flavour. Glanduron, to Bilbo’s surprise, had a lethal aim when he managed to throw a butter knife out a window to stop an elvish youth from sneaking away with food he had pilfered from his mother. Bilbo even got confided to by the Elvenking of his hopes that perhaps if he were lucky enough, he may give Legolas a younger sibling though he had apparently been ensuring not to conceive in the past years due to his worries of complications arising due to his constant stress. Bilbo got to learn more of his guards. He never thought he would hear Pedwegion speak so rapidly that he had to be asked thrice to repeat what he was saying but even when he did, no one understood him save Felfendir. Bilbo found out about how Felfendir reacts to lying - which was the elf guard over-elaborating everything he was lying about while keeping his eyes away from the one he was lying to - when Felfendir, Miludîn and Pedwegion had planned a surprise for Bilbo which were the gardens Thranduil had allowed Bilbo to have. Bilbo even learned of Miludîn’s tendency to braid everyone’s hair when his hair had grown further to the point that he had asked if anyone knew how to braid hair to keep his curls from getting into his face..

Throughout that winter, Bilbo learned much more of the Silvan race and learned of their difficulties as well. He found out that a fair amount of their elves had glamours, whether it was to serve as a numbing agent like Thranduil’s or if it was purely cosmetic to hide noticeable scars. When the hobbit asked why, Glanduron looked at him sadly and explained that they were looked upon as wild and uncivilised, that even the other elven kingdoms would speak to them condescendingly due to them not bearing enlightened blood. Glanduron explained how the least they could do was still appear elvish even if they chose to act very differently from their more enlightened brethren. 

Bilbo also learned that the Silvans had developed a way to make a divorce occur both legally and through the soulbond crafted from being wed. Thranduil had explained that that was how his parents had separated and how the other elves thought that the Silvans were disrespecting Eru through finding a means to break their bonds.

Bilbo even got to hear more about both of Thranduil’s brothers. 

The middle brother, Raudoron, had arrived two weeks after Thorin had left and he had a striking resemblance to Thranduil save for perhaps bearing a more square jaw and his hair falling into pale blond waves. Lagoryn had sent a falcon to Thranduil that had screeched at the Elvenking when Bilbo asked what it said, Thranduil explained that his youngest brother will be delayed for a bit. 

Raudoron was a gently spoken elf who sounded almost like his elder brother save for his pitch being an almost unnoticeable deeper baritone in comparison. He was quiet more of the time and his hair was in a frequent updo that varied from day to day. When he first met Bilbo and the story of Bilbo's adoption was relayed to him, Raudoron embraced him and welcomed him to the family. He was referred to as _hanarion_ which Legolas told him literally translated to brother-son. He learned that Raudoron did not enjoy spending time in Imladris but chose it as sanctuary from his grief over the loss of their father and that he usually kept to himself in the small home he had chosen and that being out in the great open was uncomfortable for him as he was more used to the security of forests and tree-homes more than architectural wonders within elven cities.

And while he learned of the people that had adopted him, Bilbo also shared everything he could of his people as well. He taught his guards how to make syllabubs - both the beverage and the everlasting sort - even if he can’t consume the dessert due to the alcohol required in the recipe. He explained how hobbit dancing worked - it was a joy seeing Thranduil and Glanduron dancing on top of benches and jumping up higher onto the stacked seats - and how courtships were begun. To his surprise, Gilrendis, his guards’ captain, had asked for him to write down the lyrics of the songs that were commonly used at the beginning of each courtship and which were good response songs. When he was caught working in the garden Thranduil had permitted Felfendir, Pedwegion and Miludîn to give to Bilbo, Thranduil asked how Bilbo had managed to grow plants in a short span of time, Bilbo had freely explained how hobbits had a natural touch for the land and that everything that grew with their aid was as natural as the sun's coming and going. Thranduil only chuckled in response and remarked how Bilbo would have loved his father for that similarity.

When the Woodland Realm began getting cold, Bilbo expected winter to reach the hidden kingdom. But he was surprised to see no snowfall, just a chill in the air that could be warmed away to nothingness by lighting the hearth in his room. To his delight, Thranduil would visit him on some of the colder days with some warm beverages and pastries.

His morning sickness did not come until he was in the middle of his second month. Pedwegion and Anoriel were with him and though he felt miserable after he had retched at the scent of the breakfast Anoriel - and apparently, Pedwegion and Legolas - had cooked for him, he found the varying reactions of his companions amusing. Pedwegion had run out of his room shouting for Glanduron while Anoriel had almost thrown the tray of food in her haste to check on him while asking after his health. When Glanduron explained the reason why he retched - Thranduil being unable to as he excused himself from the conversation after he began laughing at Pedwegion’s panicked expression - Anoriel seemed to have grasped the explanation well enough that she began bringing Bilbo mildly flavoured foods or any meals that might not trigger his sensitive sense of smell.

Come his third month, Lagoryn, the youngest of Oropher’s sons, came to the Woodland Realm. The snow had set in completely when he arrived. Bilbo was surprised to see an elf shivering from the cold, the moment Lagoryn saw his elder brothers, he rushed into their embrace and stayed like that for a while. Bilbo also learned that Lagoryn was helping the elvish shipwright in making boats for the elves who were about to sail to Valinor and that he works as a craftsman when there were no elves sailing west. Bilbo found out about the youngest brother's craft when Lagoryn began sketching a cradle design along with a bassinet design that the elf explained was for him. When Bilbo protested, Thranduil’s youngest brother looked at him and told him:

_“Surely you do not think the bassinet and cradle of an elven babe would be safe for a hobbit?”_

Though he did not know how Lagoryn felt towards him the first few days upon his arrival, he found out when a week had passed and Lagoryn invited him to walk with him. During that walk, Lagoryn had told Bilbo of all moments in his life that Thranduil had done ridiculous things and many more moments that gave cause for Bilbo to laugh.

Every month, Bilbo would have himself be checked by Glanduron and Bilbo would ask if the healer could sense if there really were just one babe there. When Glanduron explained how the _fëar_ works, Bilbo ended up muttering an oath when he heard of how some twins bear one soul. 

It did not ease Bilbo’s concerns that his stomach was quite noticeable already. Not to the point that he would need new clothes but it was noticeable _enough_.

One evening, in particular, the day Bilbo knew was the last day of Yule, Bilbo heard singing and he looked out from his terrace to see some elves seated together near a campfire singing love ballads. Gilrendis was leading them in the song and when they caught sight of Bilbo, they invited he join them. Though awkward, Bilbo sat among them with Felfendir, Pedwegion, Miludîn and Anoriel behind him. After they had asked him to share a love ballad with them, Bilbo sang - quite hesitantly - of Juniper Boffins and Sweet Cornus and how Sweet Cornus died of love for her and how Juniper died of sorrow with the song ending with both being buried beside one another. This song led to Gilrendis sharing a song that had been written by three elven youths for the celebration of springtime. The song being about a maiden whose soul was tied to a tree and how a hunter courted and pursued her, wishing her to marry him but each time she refused until the man cut her tree down and tried to take her but the maiden died and turned into a flower. Bilbo had been surprised at the tears he had shed and simply explained to the concerned elves that he was merely being emotional due to his pregnancy. The elves changed the genre of their songs to romances and joyful songs soon after with Anoriel singing a love song with her brother playing the tune for her.

In the third month of winter, Thranduil sent out his hardiest soldiers to give some relief goods to Erebor and those of Laketown to ensure they did not starve. Bilbo caught up to Feren, Anoriel’s father, and gave him letters to be delivered to each of the company. None of which were for Thorin. When Feren returned three days later, Bilbo received replies from most of the Company. Some begged him to return, some wished him well and promised to visit come spring. Bilbo doubted the latter and did not respond to the former. What was he to say if he tells them he feels unsafe with them due to the goldsickness?

 _“Tell them the truth,”_ Legolas told him one night when the elf prince was sleeping beside Bilbo. _“They cannot be sheltered from their greed forever.”_

Bilbo stayed silent but he patted Legolas’ head in thanks.

At the fourth month, a noticeable swell in Bilbo’s stomach had formed and Lagoryn had finished the cradle. The youngest son of Oropher looked at the cradle, wrinkled his nose and shouted for his brother’s. To Bilbo’s amusement, he witnessed the three bickering over whether or not the cradle was good in design. Choosing to watch the argument play out, Bilbo had Anoriel sit with him while they ate some snacks she had brought for afternoon tea. When Glanduron checked in on him for that month, Glanduron told the hobbit there was a chance he might expecting twins with how he was growing. Bilbo muttered an oath and inwardly cursed his hobbit genetics that led to the likelihood of this. Legolas held back the congratulations when he noticed the sour expression on Bilbo’s face. 

Altogether, the winter helped Bilbo grow closer to those of Thranduil’s people. He had even found himself of some use in the library, kitchens and even the healing halls. Granted, all he could do were to prescribe herbs, potions and the like to help the elves who had gotten injured from scoutings and hunts. Thranduil had been the one to begin measuring Bilbo for new clothes and had offered to make Bilbo new clothes that the hobbit may enjoy. Bilbo agreed and the two spent time designing the new set of clothes he would need.

Nearing the end of winter, a raven flew into the throne room and perched on Thranduil’s armrest, cawing at the Elvenking. The elf-king listened with a frown before he returned the noise the raven had said only with a different pattern. When Bilbo asked, Thranduil looked at him with a considering gaze before sighing.

‘It appears that come first day of _ethuil_ , a dwarven delegation shall be coming here to forge our alliance.’ The Elvenking explained with a sigh. ‘Among their number is Lord Dáin, his heir, Torsten and his spouse, Lord Madhur, Lady Golbahar of the Northern Orocarni shall be renewing her kingdom’s contract with us, Lord Ila of the Eastern Orocarni shall be coming as well and…’ Thranduil paused.

Bilbo knew who the Elvenking was about to say next.

‘Thorin.’ The hobbit said, feeling a lurch in his stomach at the thought of the father of his child - or children - coming to the Woodland Realm once more.

‘And his company.’ Thranduil finished. ‘Apparently, they have questions they demand answers to. I had agreed but you are not required to make an appearance.’

Bilbo looked at Thranduil and though he still felt anxious of his friends’ reactions to him, he assured himself that he was quite safe in the Woodland Realm. He had guards and Anoriel - a former soldier - and he was positive Thranduil would not let him get hurt. Reaching out, Bilbo squeezed Thranduil’s arm and smiled faintly.

‘I-I think it’s time the Company sees me again, don’t you think?’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Hanarion - Brother-son (nephew’  
> Fëar - Souls/Spirits  
> Ethuil - Spring
> 
> So we get the promise of the company reuniting with Bilbo who is quite evidently pregnant. We also get some fun hints about songs, courtship and other such stuff. :3 What does Thorin's time skip have in store? Hopefully good changes!
> 
> Also the visit will also feature mischievous elven youths following their Silvan traditions. Aka smearing coloured chalk on bachelors on the first day of spring. Aka the Company's visit. 😉


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is Thorin's POV time skip!

When winter fell in Erebor, Thorin had taken over ruling the mountain.

Kíli had deigned to ignore him when he tried to make his apologies and Fíli had kept to his tent, refusing to speak with him. He would speak with the members of the Company but his presence was constantly refused when he sought his nephew out.

Though he made no further attempts to try and get Fíli to forgive him, Thorin instead opted to turn to his kingdom as a way to fix the wrongs he had done unto his people and his kinsmen. He checked in with Bard after Thorin had asked for a debriefing from Balin who gave it to him briskly. After meeting with Bard, Thorin spoke to Dáin about the coming supplies and if they would be able to begin setting rations so they would not starve throughout the wintertime. Though there wasn’t much Thorin could do in the way of seeing to his people, Thorin still did all he could to try and offer them some comfort during the biting cold of winter.

Time passed slowly for his people and even when Lord Madhur arrived with supplies and more people to help with the rebuilding, they were unable to start immediately. The snow had been getting into various parts of the mountain due to the damage it had taken upon Smaug’s arrival and after the Company’s arrival. Dáin’s spouse only looked at him and the Company, unimpressed, as they recounted all the damage wrought from their skirmish with the dragon. 

_“Well, I suppose I can’t expect you lot to be careful with the equipment while you all save your skins from dragonfire.”_ They muttered as they scribbled down every single damage they had heard of.

They then sent some scouts ahead to check around the areas Thorin and the Company had gone through, advising them to keep away from the gold if they could help it. It was fortunate that Dáin’s spouse was a capable architect who seemed to not mind Thorin being a wretched mess himself during that time though Madhur did not seek him out personally either and just kept to their family, occasionally speaking with Thorin when they needed to speak with one another about one matter or the other. Soon after, when all damages that were easily fixed were assessed and the more massive damages were catalogued for when more manpower could be had, the dwarves and men began their attempts to rebuild Erebor. Bard approached Thorin later that day to ask if they could have Thorin’s aid in rebuilding Dale when the winter is over and Thorin agreed to aid those of Laketown in rebuilding their homes. Every night after he had attended to his duties as king, he would stop by his nephews’ tent and speak to them, trying to apologise but he would not get any response. It grated on him but when he ranted about it to Dwalin who was speaking to a raven he was about to send to the Northern Orocarni when the snow had stopped, his best friend only looked at him as if he was a halfwit or a witless syphilitic.

 _“Thorin,”_ Dwalin said, his tone disbelieving. _“The lads’re angry at you, they have every right to ignore you if they still feel upset. You_ did _lie to them about something that slanders a neighbouring kingdom.”_ Shaking his head, Thorin heard his friend mutter, _“It’s a bloody wonder Mirkwood hadn’t come for our heads yet”_

Thorin did not tell Dwalin that they almost did.

The first month passed with little to no change between Thorin and the Company's distance with one another.

Come the second month and Madhur and their team had managed to repair the minor damages that Thorin and his team had caused and had been meeting with Thorin for over a week trying to figure out a good way to begin the bigger repairs bit by bit so they could make the mountain more habitable than it currently was. Torsten, Dáin’s son, had stepped in to offer his help with Kíli following suit. Thorin wanted to deny Kíli from joining the repair efforts due to the risk it will involve but he had seen how his youngest nephew looked at Dáin’s son and he felt himself disinclined to try and force the two apart when the two had grown close during his absence. And with that, the more severe damages began getting inspected on which were easier to repair. Come the second week and Thorin was woken to shouting and reports of a coming elven company and hurriedly, he dressed and armed himself. When he got out, he met the coming elves and was surprised when he saw the caravan they brought with them was filled with elves and various goods inside. The one leading the company was the dark-haired elf, Feren, he supposed. Though he wanted to turn them away, Thorin noticed the supplies within the caravans and he allowed them entry into the mountain. Thorin did not fail to see the dwarves and men clamouring to see the elves entering. It did not escape his gaze either how the sons of Sindri were looking at the soldiers that left the caravan with a hopeful expression that fell when the elf they seemed to seek was not there. Thorin ignored them and moved to leave when he caught sight of Feren approaching each member of the company and giving them folded parchments that had familiar handwriting on it.

Bilbo sent letters.

Thorin waited for Feren to come to him but the elf captain finished with the sons of Sindri before returning to his caravan to begin giving out the supplies within it, calling for everyone to come forward in a calm and orderly manner. Whenever any of the Company approached the elf captain seeking answers as to how Bilbo fared, Feren would only respond with an explanation that the answer was not his to give but only for Bilbo to tell. This did not satisfy the Company’s need for an answer but nothing satisfied Thorin’s curiosity and worries as no matter how many times he had asked for his companions to share what the note had said, they refused to tell him anything. The elves stayed for three days. Throughout those three days, Thorin had had to speak with Feren about safer travel routes and trade agreements but the elf captain only noted down the offers and promised he would consult with Thranduil about the matter. Thorin did not miss the fact that the sons of Sindri had approached various elves, asking about an elf called “ _Beri_ ” and growing dejected that no such elf lived in Mirkwood or that if such an elf had lived there once then it was likely they had died or sailed west a long time ago. For three days though, Dori did not give up and spoke with various elves, describing this mysterious elf the brothers sought until Feren heard the name and remarked that it sounded eerily close to another councilmember. Thorin did not bother listening for the name when he heard how complicated it sounded. Walking past the sons of Sindri, Thorin headed for his nephews’ tent once more to speak with the two.

Three days later as promised, the elven caravan left, braving the snowstorm that had come that morn. 

Feren left with responses from all the Company.

The supplies helped extend their rations til past winter and into the early days of spring. As Thorin delegated duties for repairs and scouting along with body retrieval for the corpses that had been the dwarves unable to escape Smaug, he also spent some time going through the old royal suites to see if there was anything he could salvage. He found some jewellery that his grandmother had not taken, his father’s grooming kit, his mother’s wedding sword and when he went through his and his siblings’ chambers, he managed to find the gift that a craftsman had given Frerin and him in their youths. He had not yet learned the harp then but he was a fair hand at the viola. There were some damages to it as time was wont to do when things were neglected for too long, but Thorin was certain that given careful tweaks and adjustments, he would be able to make this as good as the day it had been presented to him and Frerin. He knew two members of Durin’s Line that would be quite fond of these.

The second month passed.

Come the third month and Thorin had managed to see that most of the Great Hall was recovered enough. Granted, as much as he loathed the gold flooring that he and the Company had created in their chase with Smaug, he cannot scrape it off and he was told by Balin it may be best to wait a while longer before he did anything that might have a possibility of damaging any part of the kingdom. Loathe as he was to look at the accursed metal, Thorin had had to concede to his advisor’s counsel. The Company had begun speaking to Thorin but only to give him reports on how everything was going with the various operations they were helping in and though Thorin would try to invite them to stay and speak with him but so far, only a few would stay. And usually, it was the older ones like Balin and Óin and some others such as Dwalin and Glóin but so far? All others had kept a formal tone with him and did not stay longer than necessary. Though the distance his Company had kept with him frustrated him, Balin was not hesitant to remind Thorin that they needed time to sort themselves through what they were told and some of them were likely upset for Bilbo as well. Thorin did not understand what Balin had meant in regards to Bilbo but Thorin sighed and went along with what his advisor told him. So he continued his duties, exchanged missives and on the fourth week of the third month, they saw a falcon entering the mountain, screeching of the arrival of the Northern Orocarni and Eastern Orocarni nobility. As much as he knew Erebor was still unready for such meetings with the other royal houses, Thorin granted them entry and met with Lady Golbahar and Lord Ila who had come with more supplies. Before Thorin could monopolise the Lady’s time, however, Dwalin had swept in and carried his One away, shouting for Thorin to sod off. Thorin opted to request for Lady Golbahar’s eldest son to accompany him and Ila while they discussed trades and other such possibilities.

That evening, Lady Golbahar had spoken to Thorin about her plans to go to Mirkwood on the first day of spring. When Thorin asked why, the Lady only smiled and told Thorin how she was looking forward to witnessing a tradition of elven youths her son had witnessed when she sent him to negotiate with the Elvenking. She had also bidden Thorin to do the same in order to smooth any ruffled feathers and to reforge the peace lost between Erebor and Mirkwood.

 _“And I advise you to refrain from calling the kingdom as Mirkwood. It is an insult for the wood-elves.”_ The Lady added with her tone a gentle rebuke that held no malice.

The fourth month came and though Thorin had no desire to reforge any lost bonds between Erebor and Mirkwood, he still sent a raven with the message informing Thranduil that he shall be coming to negotiate along with the other dwarven nobilities. Granted, Thorin also sent an additional note that the Company shall be joining him after Bofur found out and pointed out that they may as well use that visit to see Bilbo as well and make sure he was alright. Thorin knew full well that Bilbo might not even be shown to them but still, he agreed. The raven returned later with the news that the Elvenking had accepted. When he asked about Bilbo, the raven confirmed that the hobbit was in the Elvenking’s Halls and even noted, with an amused caw, that the hobbit had grown rounder. Thorin clenched his jaw, the good part was that he was being provided for. But the thought that someone else was providing for his One was something that grated on Thorin. Sighing, he reminded himself that come the first day of spring, he may be able to lay his eyes upon his One again and perhaps, if Mahal be willing, he might even be able to ask for Bilbo’s pardon and understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as you could tell, uhhh a fair amount of the company isn’t wholly okayw oth Thorin. Some of them are but it’s in the sense that they understand, Dori, Nori and Ori? Not so much since Ori grew up knowing that an elf was kind to his mom and brothers and practically helped raise them for eight years before Sindri left him while with Fíli and Kíli its a matter of they trusted Thorin and then he does a bunch of no-nos so some shaken trust there is had and then the Urs. They’re waiting to see how this plays out since they’re not really from Erebor so they can’t pass judgement, the best they could do is try and stay unbiased.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I sure as heck did while I was writing this! We get to meet some dwarf nobility and some stuff happens and hey, next chapter: REUNION TIME as always though please feel free to comment! They always motivate me to keep on writing!!


	23. Chapter 23

When Bilbo woke that morning, he was surprised by the sight of Legolas and Meludir helping Anoriel. Granted, he knew full well that the elf prince and Anoriel’s brother would help her whenever she needs it but they rarely helped during the mornings as Anoriel woke at an unholy time. When Anoriel noticed he had woken she went and helped him sit up.

‘Good morning, Bilbo.’ Anoriel greeted, the hobbit almost missed the amusement that seemed to colour her tone.

Bilbo looked at his assistant and raised a brow at her. ‘Good morning.’ Turning his attention to the two young men helping with setting up breakfast things, Bilbo looked at Anoriel questioningly. ‘Now I’m not complaining but why are these two here?’ He asked, trying to keep his voice hushed.

‘It’s the first day of  _ ethuil _ .’ Anoriel explained with a small laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. ‘Chalking day.’

Bilbo shook his head and got off the bed with some difficulty. Resting a hand on the swell of his stomach, Bilbo went to the breakfast spread that Anoriel and the boys had arranged. Seating himself, he noted the constant glances the two young men threw at the terraces as if expecting someone to arrive through that.

‘Expecting someone?’ Bilbo asked, grabbing a piece of toast and buttering it generously.

Legolas blanched and threw a cautious glance at Bilbo.

‘I pray not.’

Anoriel laughed again and sat beside Bilbo. ‘Chalking day is a playful tradition here.’ She explained. ‘But these two try to escape it since they’re by far the hardest to chalk. It’s a tradition to smear powdered chalk on the backs of unattached elves’ clothing as a way to identify them and the participants are usually young elves as well.’

‘Do older elves join?’ Bilbo asked, nibbling on his breakfast.

Anoriel nodded. ‘Elcundir surprised us last year by winning after he coated Felfendir’s shirt completely with his blue chalk.’ 

Bilbo recognised the name vaguely. He met Gilrendis’ older cousin and he can’t imagine someone with such a forbidding expression to join in such a playful tradition. Though from what he had seen of the Woodland Realm, there were many things that no one would expect from the Silvan elves.

‘The goal is for one of us to completely coat the unattached elves with a colour but it gets hard as they tend to be quite fast.’ At that, Anoriel looked at her brother and the prince, both of whom were looking warily at the terrace. ‘Legolas and Meludir both are among the fastest during the first day of  _ ethuil _ and they have no intentions of giving up their streak.’

Bilbo snorted and shook his head. They truly were still quite young at heart then. He was certain that if Fíli and Kíli were here then they would have found this to be an interesting custom. The hobbit highly doubted that the dwarves celebrated the seasons overmuch. Rubbing the swell of his stomach, Bilbo thought of the Company and the anxiety in him rose a bit. It is the first day of spring. Which would mean that he would see the Company once more. 

‘Do you think they would be arriving today?’ Bilbo found himself asking, turning to look at Anoriel.

Anoriel pressed her lips together and looked at the prince who in turn, lost the wary expression he bore and reached over to run slender fingers through Bilbo’s curls.

‘Do not fear,  _ honeg _ . Whether or not they come today, nothing shall happen to you.’ Legolas promised. ‘You have three guards, an assistant with army training, that assistant’s brother who is a good swordsman and a brother that is quite a fair hand at the bow.’ 

That was not what Bilbo worried about. He had come to terms that he would be well protected but was he even ready to see them once more? Ori, Fíli and Kíli were not affected by the goldsickness but the rest were. He didn’t want to have to look at them and see the gold-mad glazed eyes when he saw them. 

Feeling Anoriel’s hand on his back, he felt her rub it reassuringly.

‘All will be well, Bilbo. You’ll see.’

* * *

Thorin and the others who shall be coming to the summit of sorts had left a day or two before to ensure they arrived at the first of spring. The dwarf king did not understand the specificity of the date but he chose not to say anything about it. By far, when they had departed, everyone had expressed excitement to see Bilbo again. In fact, Fíli and Kíli had even taken to excitedly speaking in his presence once more. He did not realise how deeply he had missed such noises until it had ceased. It was nearing afternoon when the delegation was met by Thranduil and some of his guards. Thorin noticed how his consort was seated on the same horse as him and he bit his tongue to keep any barbed comments from slipping.

‘Please be mindful to stay in our line of sight.’ Thranduil said as he began leading them to the kingdom.

Further into the forest they were led, into familiar twists and turns but to Thorin’s surprise, there were lesser cobwebs than before. There was still a rot to the forest that even a dwarf can see but it was still surprising the lack of arachnids in the forest. When they came upon the bridge to Thranduil’s Halls, Thranduil slid off his mount and helped his consort off as well, leading the horse by the reins. The moment they reached the gates, Thorin was approached by some elves and to his surprise, when some elves turned around, there were smears of coloured powder on their backs.

Behind him, he could hear confused whispering.

‘D’you think they know ‘bout those smears?’

‘I doubt it, Kee.’

‘Should we tell them?’

As one of the elves were leading the dwarves’ mounts away, Dwalin seemed to recognise one of the elves that had a coloured powder smear on his tunic.

‘Oi, lad, you’ve got something on your back!’ 

The reaction to the young elf was a surprise to several members of the company and they watched as he reached back to touch the smear and his fingers came away stained bright pink. They then watched as the elf spoke rapidly in their tongue to another elf who shook his head and reached back as well, this time his finger was stained yellow. The two seemed to be alarmed and wary of their other companions as they led the animals away.

Thorin watched all this happen and shook his head. Behind him, he was aware of snickering while Lord Ila was asking Lady Golbahar what was happening.

‘This way.’ Thranduil gestured for them to follow him, though Thorin could have sworn he was trying to suppress a smile as he walked off with his husband holding tightly onto his arm.

* * *

Bilbo was working in the gardens when Legolas had been approached by a blond elf - Alagosion, if his memory was correct - who already had streaks of yellow on his shirt, telling the prince that the Company had arrived. Sitting back a bit, Bilbo groaned, rubbing his back. Turning to face Felfendir, Pedwegion and Miludîn, he noted how the three also bore different streaks and smears on their tunics.

‘Any luck finding the ones who marked you?’ Bilbo asked, avoiding the knowledge that the Company had arrived.

He noted how Felfendir seemed to understand Bilbo and he shook his head. ‘I need to find the one who marked me if I want to get changed.’ He sighed, rubbing his face.

Pedwegion blew out a raspberry in frustration. ‘Tried, but too many are using this offensive shade of blue.’ He muttered something about oversaturation and how he could have at least been stained in a less ugly colour instead of the monstrosity he has to deal with.

Miludîn was silent and he reached back to look at the pink stains on his fingers. A contemplative look came to his eyes and he shrugged. Bilbo guessed that the poor lads would have to stay in their smeared tunics for the time being. 

So far, Legolas, Meludir and Anoriel had stayed clean but Bilbo had a feeling the day was just getting interesting for everyone.

‘Bilbo, shall we go and greet the guests?’ Legolas asked, holding a hand out for the hobbit.

Bilbo took Legolas’ hand and stood up. He thought of getting changed but then he remembered the fair distance they would have to walk and Bilbo decided he may as well forego the proprieties he was raised with. Just this once. With Anoriel and Meludir flanking him and his guards behind, Bilbo was amused at the odd sight they seemed to create. Especially since Legolas was speaking with Bilbo while occasionally stopping to turn around to check for anyone sneaking up to him.

* * *

Thorin and the others had been led to various suites where they would be staying at. This time, he was to room with his nephews instead of Dáin who shall be with his spouse and son. When they had all unpacked their essentials, Thorin heard knocking and he called out permission to enter. This time, the one who entered was a blond elf with streaks of bright yellow powder staining his tunic entered.

‘King Thranduil invites you to the throne room.’ He said, a small smile gracing his lips.

Thorin nodded and called out for his nephews who came out of their room. After informing them of Thranduil’s summons, the two immediately left for the throne room. Thorin watched them leave and he sighed. He supposed he was yet to be forgiven by either of them.

When he came to the throne room, he was expecting Thranduil to be seated above, but the sight that greeted him was different. It was Thranduil kneeling on the floor, speaking to someone of a far shorter height than he.

Someone with copper curls.

The sight made Thorin’s stomach lurch.

Distantly, he was aware of more of the Company arriving, but he did not turn to acknowledge them. When Thranduil rose and stepped aside, Thorin met eyes of a deep blue shade, eyes that had gazed at him in love and eyes that later turned into ones full of fear.

‘ _ Bilbo. _ ’ He breathed out.

Yet before he could even take a step to his One, Bofur had run forward and swept him into his arms causing the elves to cry out in alarm. Thorin watched, stunned as a dark-skinned she-elf rushed forward and said something to Bofur in a hushed whisper that got the miner to put the hobbit down. Thorin noticed how pale and shaken Bilbo had gotten when he was set down by Bofur, a hand resting on his stomach.

Thorin frowned and looked curiously at the hobbit. Bilbo looked at Thorin, his lips pressed together tightly.

‘Thorin.’ Bilbo greeted at last.

Thorin stiffly bowed to his One.

‘I think we might have to talk.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Comment if you can, it keeps me motivated and I appreciate your continued support so much!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some talks happen, a bit of hurt but some comfort from friends is had. :3

He didn’t know how he’d react if he saw Thorin again.

Would his breath stop and fear take him by its claws once more?

Would he feel anger and betrayal?

Would he feel happy?

Bilbo dreaded to think of how he would act when he saw Thorin. That was why when he had come and only saw Thranduil, he was relieved. Thranduil had spoken to him, reminded him that he didn’t need to speak with them, that he could stay hidden and safe with them. But Bilbo had made his decision and he didn’t want to back out of it, this he told Thranduil and just as the two were finishing their discussion, he heard heavy boots rushing to the throne room. Bilbo looked at the newcomer and he felt his heart clench and his throat close.

He almost gave in to his panic were it not for Thranduil blocking the view from Thorin completely.

‘Remember, you are safe.’ Thranduil told him with a reassuring gaze.

The next thing he knew, he saw the Company coming and Bofur ran at him, lifting him up and causing Bilbo to call for the dwarf to put him down, fearing for both his safety and his child’s. When Anoriel had managed to get Bofur to set him back down - he wasn’t sure what she had told him to get him to do so - Bilbo had to acknowledge that with the Company present in the Woodland Realm, there was no way he could keep hiding his condition. They knew his tells, they knew that he was not the sort to completely stop doing certain things that he would not do now. 

So he told them they would speak and he asked Thranduil if there was a room they could speak privately in. Even though he knew it would be best to speak to them alone so they would see he trusted them, Bilbo found that he could only bring himself to approach a small number of them. So he took his guards and assistant with him when they were taken to the council room Thranduil had informed Bilbo was free for him to use.

When he stepped in, Bilbo looked around and noticed some of them were eyeing him carefully, Bofur was looking at him as if he were made of glass, everyone’s expressions were varying in regards to concern to sheer disbelief. 

‘Alright, laddie, you said we needed a talk.’ Óin said, his tone gruff. ‘Now why don’t you tell us that and why in Mahal’s Forge would you need an elven entourage with you.’

Bilbo turned and held out a hand to stop Felfendir who made to step forward, his expression burning with anger at the dwarf’s disparaging tone towards them.

‘First off, Óin,’ Bilbo started, a hand resting upon his belly. ‘I need them for my protection. And they’re my friends and family just as much as you lot are.’

At that, Thorin’s expression darkened and Bilbo stepped away from his already considerable distance from the Company. He felt Anoriel seating herself beside him.

‘Now laddie, you did know us longer than that.’ Glóin protested, clearly taking offence at having the same status as an elf.

‘Unfortunately for you lot, Bilbo sees us as family.’ Pedwegion argued, clearly struggling to keep himself from speaking faster in anger. ‘And unfortunately for us, that makes us kin which means we cannot dispose of you.’ 

Bilbo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘That is not what I want to talk about with you lot.’ Bilbo ground out. He was aware of Anoriel rubbing his back and he appreciated her attempts to help. Taking in a deep breath, Bilbo looked at the Company, trying to gauge how well they’re reacting.

Well, judging from how they’d acted so far, clearly this would not go over well.

‘I am expecting.’ He said, hesitant.

‘Expecting?’ Nori echoed, his nose scrunched up. ‘What’re you expecting, Bilbo?’ 

‘Maybe he’s expecting letters from the Shire?’ Ori suggested.

‘Oh aye, but why didn’t he go back home?’ Dwalin argued.

As if that opened another topic of discussion, questions were suddenly being asked of why he didn’t go back home as he wanted since the very beginning. Why he would forsake his home for the sake of elves wanting to keep him, if the elves had done this horrible thing or that horrible thing, Bilbo closed his eyes and tried not to let everything overwhelm him as their inquiries kept mounting.

But he was not able to.

‘I’m here because I’d rather not go back to the Shire, heavily pregnant, out of wedlock and in  _ absolute disgrace! _ ’ Bilbo heard himself shout over the din of voices.

Chest heaving, Bilbo glared at Thorin who had grown ashen at his proclamation.

‘Bad enough I’m a Took by blood which means I’ve gotten the Took Oddity, _ even worse _ that I was  _ gullible _ enough to let myself be bedded when I knew full well what that may lead to.’ His voice cracked at this and Anoriel muttered something to him in the dialect of her people. 

He didn’t understand it but he appreciated it nonetheless.

‘Bilbo-’ Thorin started, stepping forward.

Bilbo shook his head and held up a hand to tell the dwarf king to stop.

‘ _ Stop _ . Right there.’ Bilbo snapped, his breaths unsteady. ‘You did this to me and then you tried to kill me, you have  _ no right _ to be near me.’ Bilbo spat out. 

Guilt momentarily rose in him when he saw the devastated expression on Thorin’s face but he chose not to speak of anything about that. He will not lie to himself that seeing Thorin brought back a surge of affection but the sight of the sire of his child also made him feel ill and frightened for his life. And he refused to feel that way now that he had another life to think of.

‘Bilbo, that was not who I am.’ Thorin protested, his tone desperate. ‘Surely, you know I would not harm you.’ 

Bilbo pressed his lips together and turned away, making for the door. He did not answer Thorin because he did not know what to say. How do you remind someone you love of all the times he had hurt you? He did not strike you with his sword or his hands, but still he struck you with barbed words and sneers until you proved yourself useful to him. He could hear confused murmuring and muttering behind him but he did not try to stay longer, uncertain how his news would be taken by the Company. He did not want to see the disgust on their faces and he did not want to stay a moment longer should doubt cloud their minds.

As he was being escorted out though, he heard quick footsteps and he felt a gentle embrace being given to him. When Bilbo turned around to face the one who hugged him, he met Bofur’s gaze and his friend smiled quietly.

‘You just tell me if that bairn needs toys, aye?’ Bofur murmured, his lips curved into a smile quieter than his common ones.

Bilbo nodded, emotion choking his voice. Looking past Bofur, he noticed Fíli and Kíli behind him and both were looking like they wanted to embrace him. Further from them were the Ri brothers and Bilbo saw that they didn’t seem to be as confused as the rest of the Company.

‘Will we see you later, Bilbo?’ Ori asked, his voice quiet.

Unable to speak, Bilbo shook his head and choked out that he might see some of them the next day. Dori only nodded and shooed him away, a look of understanding in his eyes.

Bilbo did not see Thorin’s eyes full of unspoken apologies as the hobbit left the Company with his guards, Anoriel following behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Please don't hesitate to comment, it keeps me motivated!


	25. Chapter 25

When Bilbo had gone, Thorin looked around the Company and saw Bofur looking at him less with the formal respect one was due to give to their betters and was instead looking at one that was beneath even the lowest class.

‘Thorin, did you know about this?’ Balin asked, his tone holding a wariness in them that Thorin vaguely remembered hearing in the throes of his goldsickness.

Thorin did not answer as he tried to recall any moment that Bilbo might have indicated that he was capable of bearing children. Then it struck him and he felt the blood leave his face. 

‘He was trying to tell me of it.’ He said, his voice shaking. ‘In Laketown, the night after we had surprised him with a celebration dinner for his Name Day.’ 

Bofur let out a curse and Thorin could see the disappointment in Balin’s eyes. Shame pooled deep within him and he swallowed past the dryness in his throat. He wanted more than anything to express how sorry he was but words alone was not something that could pardon him. 

‘Thorin,’ Balin started, his voice more restrained than it already was. ‘Are you telling me you had waved away Bilbo’s words in spite of it being a possibly important thing?’

Thorin clenched his jaw and did not answer. He knew full well what answer he had to give to be honest to his company, it did not make him any less afraid for how his companions would react to his carelessness.

‘Thorin, Bilbo might be retracting his consent!’ Bofur exclaimed, his tone outraged. ‘What in Mahal’s name is wrong with you!’

Running a hand frustratedly through his dark hair, Thorin glared at the miner. ‘I asked Bilbo if he wished this and that whatever he had to tell me, it can wait!’ He snapped back.

‘Durin, preserve us.’ Dwalin muttered.

‘It did not occur to me that he was even capable of such things!’ Thorin defended himself.

‘Which is  _ why _ you should’ve bloody  _ listened _ , you pile of  _ rubble _ !’ Came Bofur’s retort. ‘We weren’t familiar with anything regarding Hobbits or their anatomy but you just told him it’ll all be bloody fine!’

‘I told him nothing of the sort!’ Thorin retorted, his voice shaking in anger. ‘I told him anything that would happen, we will figure it out.’

‘And  _ did _ you?’ Fíli asked, his silence broken, pale eyes burning with a fire that rarely was lit within him.

Thorin was silent and he met his heir’s gaze, he could feel the dare from the baleful glare alone. He wished nothing more than to say yes, he wished to tell his nephew that yes, they will but with how his One had reacted to his presence in their meeting, Thorin felt no hope for his chances with Bilbo.

‘Thorin.’ Fíli called out, his voice stern and harsh. ‘Did. You. Figure. It. Out?’ His nephew asked, his teeth grit together.

Looking away from his heir, his face burning in shame, Thorin muttered, ‘No.’

He heard angry footsteps followed by more footsteps until it faded into nothing. When Thorin looked at who had remained from his company, he felt his heart sink.

Dwalin had left.

Of the four that was willing to approach him, only Balin, Óin and Glóin remained.

‘Alright, laddie.’ Balin said, approaching him. ‘Let’s see if there’s something we could do about this mess, aye?’

Thorin nodded and sighed. There was not much he can do and he could only pray that given time, he could be forgiven for what he had done wrong.

* * *

‘I can’t believe Uncle would do that!’ Kíli ranted as he paced back and forth in the library.

An elf a few tables away from them looked up harshly and shushed them.

Kíli ignored the elf in favour of continuing his rant. Fíli, who had been sitting there with a scowl on his face ever since he had come there.

‘Is it  _ really _ a surprise to you, Kíli?’ Fíli asked at last, his gaze sharp. ‘Because the more I think on it, the less of a surprise it becomes and more of something I should have more or less expected.’

Kíli was silent as he looked at his older brother. He could see a tired anger in him, one that looked like he was too used to this realisation and one Kíli had seen far too many times. The younger son of Dís had seen that expression on his brother ever since he could remember and he wondered how he could miss that when it was such a familiar sight.

Perhaps that was the reason why.

‘Well, there  _ has _ to be some way we could at least show Bilbo that we aren’t like Uncle.’ Kíli insisted, his tone eager yet desperate. ‘I mean, neither of us agree with Uncle and what he did…’ Kíli drifted off and he shook his head. ‘He tried to kill Bilbo. He tried to make you kill Bilbo.’

‘Because then, the blood won’t be on his hands.’ Fíli whispered, bitterness dripping from his lips. ‘It would be on mine, and is that not what my duty is? Follow my elders, never question, be a good soldier to your king.’ All this, Fíli rattled on, his tone growing more and more mocking as he did so. 

‘Fee…’ Kíli looked at his brother, brows drawing together.

It hurt to see one he idolised so much look so resentful and broken towards one who had helped raise them. 

Fíli met his brother’s gaze and the blond dwarf sighed. 

‘It would be a miracle if Bilbo would want to see us.’ He said at last. ‘But seeing as we had distressed him in his condition and we may have insulted the elves he is considering as family as well.’ 

Kíli let out a breath. The dark-haired dwarf slumped over and thunked his head on the table, trying not to let despair swallow him whole. He quite liked their burglar and had begun seeing him as another parental figure so to see him so distraught somehow distressed the younger prince as well.

‘There  _ has _ to be something we could do to make it up to Bilbo.’ Kíli insisted. 

Fíli looked at him, there was no shred of hope in him but he sighed and nodded. Kíli figured that should be enough. At least for now.

‘I’ll go see what Torsten has to suggest, would you like to come?’ 

Fíli shook his head and smiled reassuringly at his brother. He had no intentions of seeing his little brother moon over Dáin’s son while Torsten thinks of ways to help them.

‘It’s alright, Nadadith.’ He told the brunet. ‘I will see what I can find on my own.’ Rising from his seat, the blond clapped his brother on the shoulder and nodded before leaving the library.

With his spirits slightly raised, Kíli left as well with designs of looking for a fiery-haired young lord in hopes of hearing his thoughts on their current predicament. 

Perhaps with Torsten’s help, they could find a way to make Bilbo feel a bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as long as my usual chapters but I hope you guys like this nonetheless! Please don’t hesitate to comment, it keeps me motivated!


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the super late update! I actually ran into a bit of a brick wall in writing but then I decided to write what I want just to continue to have fun with the story!

Fíli met Bilbo’s assistant while he was wandering through the Mirkwood palace’s halls. She was carrying bedsheets and other things and it was clear she wasn’t paying any attention when the two of them bumped into each other causing her to drop the sheets.

Cursing, Fíli proceeded to help her pick up her laundry - at least he assumed it was her laundry - apologising to her all the while. He noted her darker complexion but he held his tongue. If dwarven lords and ladies can have those dark skin, he cannot see why elves would not have such as well.

‘Thank you.’ The assistant told him, her lips curving into an unsure smile.

Fíli shook his head. ‘There wasn’t much to thank me for if it was my fault you dropped them in the first place.’ He replied with a small grimace. ‘You’re Bilbo’s assistant, right? You were the one trying to keep him calm.’

She looked genuinely surprised that someone remembered her and her smile seemed to be so genuine. Bringing up a hand to her breast, she bowed her head. ‘I am Anoriel Fereniel.’ She introduced herself with a shyness he didn’t think an elf would be able to have.

Fíli held out his hand to her and though she looked dubious, she took it. Adjusting his grip on her so they were both holding each other’s forearms in a way.

‘Fíli Dísul.’ 

Nodding, Anoriel folded the sheets with practised ease before she began making her way back to wherever she was headed. Fíli looked at the retreating figure and realised one thing that he seemed to have forgotten.

She clearly knew Bilbo enough seeing as Bilbo looked to be comfortable in her presence. Perhaps she would know about Bilbo’s condition in more detail than anyone in the Company.

‘Wait!’ He called out, running after her.

Anoriel stopped walking and when he caught up, she proceeded to begin walking once more. 

‘Bilbo, how is he?’ Fíli asked, trying to keep up with her. It wasn’t a difficult feat when he noticed how Anoriel seemed to have slowed her walking to something more manageable for someone his height. 

Anoriel didn’t respond for a while before she replied in a hesitant manner.

‘He’s well.’ She said shortly. As if regretting her short answer, she sighed. ‘He’s quite shaken with meeting you and your company once more but beyond that? He is quite alright.’

‘Well enough that you could leave him alone?’ Fíli continued with a nod to her presence. 

She did not seem to take offence to his words and she shrugged. She did not seem to mind his questions which were something that he had not exactly thought to see an elf would do.

‘Bilbo told me to do as I wished with my respite. So, I am helping with replacing the bedsheets in your suites.’ She explained. ‘He is well protected and cared for and besides,’ At that, Anoriel grimaced slightly. ‘I would rather not make Bilbo cross. Seeing anyone in distress is not something I am fond of.’ 

Fíli found that he could sympathise with that and he nodded. ‘Bilbo being cross or upset is never any fun to see.’ 

He could recall desperate eyes of cobalt blue shining in fear as Bilbo begged for Thorin to see sense. He could recall each frown, each anguished look and the utter heartbreak on his face when he was banished by his uncle. There was nothing more distressing for anyone than to see a dearly beloved companion be hurt in such a manner.

‘Is there a way to help him cheer up a bit?’ Fíli asked hesitantly. He wasn’t sure if Bilbo would want their help in that but he really did want to help where he could. That was the least he could do for Bilbo anyway.

Anoriel looked contemplative and then she nodded. ‘Well, first I will have to fix these onto your bed-’

‘Or just leave it on my bed and my brother and I will fix it when we get back.’

Anoriel threw him a dubious gaze and Fíli responded by giving her his most earnest expression. Sighing, the elf woman gestured for him to follow her and he did. He didn’t really know where they were headed but he was certain she was not going to take him to the dungeons. Unless that was the only way to cheer Bilbo up in which case Fíli won’t be holding it against the hobbit if it were true.

Thankfully, she took him to what he believed was the kitchens since there were many elves bustling about and speaking rapidly in their mother tongue. 

‘Do you know any food with heat in it?’ Anoriel asked as she passed by an elf who evaded her while holding a pot full of what Fíli assumed was stew.

‘Spicy food?’ Fíli scrunched up his nose before shrugging. ‘I can cook one if you’d like.’

He saw hesitance in her before she sighed and waved him to an empty workstation. 

‘Well, we might as well do this.’ She muttered. ‘What are your ingredients?’ She asked as she went and tried to tie her hair back from her face with her own hair being used as the cord.

Fíli noticed her difficulty and the dwarf prince cleared his throat, a red dusting on his cheek as he gestured for the elf woman to come close. He saw Anoriel look at him before bending down to his height. Wordlessly, Fíli tied back her hair and held it in place by braiding two locks together to form a hair tie. It was not a long process but it was close and intimate enough that he felt awkward while he did so. Hair tying never ceased to be something only lovers and family did and she was neither of that to him but still he did it. 

He’d do it for Bilbo seeing as the hobbit had helped his family enough and had gone through so much with them that something as simple as cooking something with an elf who turns out to be his assistant was something he was more than willing to do.

‘Alright, do you have some potatoes, carrots, chicken and perhaps some milk?’ He started, looking around the kitchen for anything he could use to add some more heat to the dish he had in mind. His Adad was fond of making this dish spicier than necessary.

Anoriel moved around the kitchen with ease, grabbing some ingredients, putting some back down and grabbing some more that Fíli assumed was fresher or bigger in quantity. When she set it down in front of him, Fíli nodded.

‘Alright then, let’s do this.’

* * *

The curry he had made was... _ passable _ . 

It was not in any way terrible nor was it as delicious as the one his father would make but it will do. When he had Anoriel taste it, he found himself impressed that she did not react to the heat much but still he needed a proper gauge if the number of peppers he had put in was too much or enough. Stopping a passing elf - who had blue powder smeared on his back - Fíli asked if they would not mind tasting his dish. When they did, they asked about how spicy he was aiming for and after a response, he crushed some pepper in the curry before walking off.

With their dish complete, Anoriel covered the bowl of curry with a piece of cloth and she looked at Fíli carefully.

‘You don’t have to bring me along.’ The blond dwarf assured the elf with a small smile as he made a shooing gesture. ‘I just want to lighten Bilbo’s moods. That is all.’

Anoriel nodded and was about to leave when Fíli caught sight of an elf entering with his hands covered in yellow powder. As Anoriel was about to pass by him, Fíli moved quickly and stopped the elf by tackling him to the ground and in the process, getting the powder smeared on his tunic.

Silence filled the kitchens and he swore he could hear elves snickering. Confused, Fíli got up and looked at Anoriel who was smiling at him widely.

‘Well, it looks like you are free to change your tunic at least.’ She commented before nodding to him. ‘But perhaps you could show Bilbo this dish you had made?’ She offered.

Fíli hesitated. He did not want Bilbo to be uncomfortable. It was the last thing he wanted.

‘If it will sway you, Bilbo cares about you and the others a great deal. You, your brother and Master Ori the most due to your age.’ 

Fíli gestured for Anoriel to lead the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and next chapter we're getting Fíli and Bilbo together, some chalking happens and I hope you guys won't hesitate to comment as it keeps me motivated!


	27. Chapter 27

Fíli was told to close his eyes and hold onto her skirts while she led him to where Bilbo was. 

He just assumed that Bilbo would be in one of the rooms in the Mirkwood palace and that Anoriel just didn’t want him to find out where Bilbo was staying at but then after some twists and turns, Anoriel began telling him to be careful about a step that had some ivy crawling across or she would tell him of a tree root or that he had to hold on tight and keep in mind they were about to go down some steps. He didn’t know how long the travel took but by the time he was told to open his eyes, he just knew he wasn’t in the palace anymore.

‘Where are we?’ He asked, eyes wide with awe as he looked around the kingdom of trees where he swore he spotted elflings, literal _children_ running on tree branches and giggling and laughing. Looking at Bilbo’s assistant, he saw she had a smile on her face. She was standing before a tree where the only door he could find was kept closed by curtains of emerald velvet.

‘This is where our true kingdom lies.’ She said as she parted the velvet curtains for him to go through. 

With nothing else to lose, Fíli followed Anoriel, trusting her to take him where Bilbo is. When he got in, he found his brows going up at how large the inside was. He did not expect such a vast size for something so simple and yet, he saw it.

‘Anoriel, you had brought a stranger into our home.’ A deep baritone - far deeper than the Elvenking so it can’t be him - greeted Fíli’s ears and he found himself looking at an elf dressed in robes of varying shades that reminded him of Rivendell, his hair was done up and he had an uncanny resemblance to Thranduil. Though the stray locks of golden hair revealed his hair was far more wavy than the Elvenking’s.

‘Lord Raudoron.’ Anoriel greeted, bowing her head. ‘I have a guest for Bilbo, he was among the young ones that Bilbo worried over.’ She said quietly. 

The elf looked Fíli over before he looked back at Anoriel, a frown marring his brows before he sighed and gestured for them to proceed. 

‘Make sure no others shall learn where we live.’ Raudoron said sternly as he left and entered another room. 

Beckoning for Fíli to follow her, Anoriel entered through a doorway parted by another heavy set of curtains - this time it was more a forest green than the emerald green - and though Fíli knew who was inside that room, he still felt that coil of anticipation burning through him. Following Anoriel as he had before, Fíli went past the curtains and into the room.

Only to be greeted by the sight of Bilbo having his hair braided back by an elf with chestnut hair with his tunic streaked with pink powder while two other elves were seated on the bed beside Bilbo, both of whom had different shades of powder on their tunics as well. 

Fíli supposed his arrival was not a quiet one seeing as the moment he had entered, Bilbo ended up stilling and his eyes opened, focusing in on him.

‘Fili.’ It was not an exclamation. It was just said as if he was just comprehending that Fíli had managed to find him in a place he was meant to be safe and secure.

Fíli plastered on as bright a smile he could manage and he waved at Bilbo. ‘Well met, Master Baggins.’

* * *

Bilbo had taken to his curry quite well. Apparently food really did help lift Bilbo’s spirits, especially the food he was craving quite intensely that day.

Granted, he felt uncomfortable when the curry sauce was poured over a sweet roll but he made no comments on it. Though he did see the sand brown-haired elf beside Bilbo pull a face yet he still accepted the sweet roll offered to him with a smile. Fíli declined the offer and Anoriel did as well.

‘How in Yavanna’s name did you get Anoriel to bring you here?’ Bilbo asked at last, handing a sweet roll - without the sauce, Thank Mahal - to Anoriel who took it and broke it apart. ‘If I know this girl - and I should like to think I do - then it would be practically impossible to get anyone to have her reveal this place to just anyone.’ 

Fíli wanted to tell Bilbo it was because he made the curry but then he remembered she was about to leave him there when he told her that it was alright for her to give it to Bilbo without letting their hobbit know that it was him who had made the curry.

Turning his attention to the dark-haired elf, Anoriel looked awkwardly between the dwarf and hobbit before she sighed.

‘It was because you spared me the trouble of a chalking.’ She said at last. ‘It would have been a nightmare to try and chase the one who had marked me but you resolved that by tackling them and getting chalked in turn.’

Bilbo snorted and looked between Anoriel and Fíli who looked to be severely confused on what was going on. He couldn’t blame the poor boy for being lost and so, he reached out and patted Fíli on the arm as consolingly as he could while trying to hold his mirth back. 

‘Apparently, every first day of spring, there is an event known as Chalking Day where erm..unattached elves get targeted and marked with chalk. You’re not allowed to change clothes unless you catch whoever had marked you and threw them in a body of water and you either win by not being marked or by marking someone completely with your powder.’ Bilbo explained with a small smile. ‘My guards are, unfortunately, marked.’

Fíli nodded. He didn’t think something so silly and playful could be an event for elves and yet it was. He found himself smiling and looking at Bilbo carefully. His copper hair had grown longer, it could now be braided into a crowned braid like he was wearing now, his vestments looked to be a blend of hobbit fashion and the fashion of Mirkwood and of course, the most obvious change of all, the swell of his stomach.

‘How are you?’ Fíli blurted it out before he could stop himself, cringing internally, Fíli sighed. ‘I’ve been worrying how you fared and so had everyone else in the company and then you told us you were expecting and that uncle is the father and I didn’t know if you were alright or if the babe is giving you trouble or-’

‘Fíli, _Fíli_! Calm yourself!’ Bilbo called out, gripping his shoulders tightly. ‘Lad, calm yourself!’

Fíli didn’t even realise he was starting to shorten his breathing in his ramblings that when Bilbo stopped him, he ended up taking a deep breath as if he was just learning how to breathe once more.

Bilbo sighed and sat beside Fíli, settling himself on the pillow with some difficulty. Resting his hand on his swollen middle, Bilbo was silent for a few moments before he spoke.

‘I...honestly don’t know if I’m alright. I look at you and I don’t feel fear, but Thorin sends that fear coming back. I could forgive everyone but him?’ Bilbo bit his lip and looked down at his belly, running a hand over its swell. ‘I almost died and so had my child.’

Fíli didn’t miss the way Bilbo had referred to the babe and he found that he didn’t blame Bilbo for acting the way he had. Reaching over, he pulled Bilbo close to him and embraced Bilbo tightly. 

‘Well, if you feel scared of Thorin, don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe.’ Fíli promised, his voice quiet.

‘ _We?_ ’ The elf with sand brown hair asked, his tone dubious.

Fíli met his gaze and nodded.

‘You have me now, I’ll help Bilbo in any way I could.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we're at least getting some more allies or rebuilding burnt bridges of some sort! But hey, hopefully Thorin will make a move in the next chapter! Please don't hesitate to comment! It motivates me!


	28. Chapter 28

Thorin had been pacing his chambers ever since he had returned from the council room.

Balin had come with him and had proceeded to ask Thorin what it was the King Under the Mountain wanted to do exactly. Instead of replying to his advisor, Thorin just continued with his pacing, trying to think of a solution to what had happened.

Bilbo was pregnant.

With  _ his _ child.

And his One was furious with him.

Well...apparently, frightened of him  _ and _ furious with him.

Thorin had to find a way to fix this.

‘He’s upset with me, Balin.’ He said, after a long period of silence, looking at the white-haired dwarf with a deep frown. ‘What should I do to fix this?’

Balin looked at his king and the advisor saw the lost dwarf from near two centuries ago who was forced to begin leading his people though no crown rested on his head then. This time, he was lost for a different reason and even Balin cannot advise him through this beyond what he could suggest.

‘I-I want to make amends but I saw his eyes, Balin.’ Thorin continued, his voice more hushed than Balin had heard before. ‘It’s so full of fear and distrust that I do not even know where to begin to try and regain his heart.’

Balin sighed and placed a hand on Thorin’s shoulder to stay him from pacing once more.

‘You’ve never lost his heart, laddie.’ Balin looked at Thorin and he saw the doubt in those pale eyes. Balin squeezed Thorin’s shoulder before letting go. ‘You broke it a bit but I doubt you’d lost it entirely.’

Thorin did not answer and instead, looked at Balin as if Balin had gone mad. Thorin sighed and went over to where a writing desk - somehow perfect for his size - was located. Seating himself, the dwarf king rubbed his temples, a troubled furrow of his brow giving away his distress. The advisor stood there before he thought over something.

‘What drew you both together?’ Balin asked, at last, hoping that perhaps if they bonded over these things once more, Thorin might begin reforging that break between him and his One.

Thorin looked at Balin and he looked pensive, trying to think of the first thing that he and Bilbo had spoken of after his rescue from Azog. He could recall that he and his hobbit did not have that chance until they reached the skinchanger’s home where the rest of the Company found out about Bilbo’s noble lineage. Thorin recalled that their first proper discussion was at evening where they spoke of younger cousins Bilbo helped raise or the nephews Thorin had trained to be kings and how different their approaches to children were.

Their very first topic was about children.

Thorin grimaced and shook his head at Balin.

‘If we speak of childrearing and parenting then I fear Bilbo may commit regicide.’ He muttered. 

Balin sighed. ‘I’m afraid I can’t advise much for you, Thorin.’ His advisor told him, his tone was genuinely regretful. ‘In matters of state, you can trust me. But this is a matter of the heart and only you would know the best way around his.’

Thorin looked at Balin wearily and he sighed, waving the older dwarrow away. It appears this is one thing Balin cannot help him out with. The thing was that he did not even resent the older dwarrow for this.

This mess was one he had made himself and he was the only one who can fix this.

At least, that was what he felt was needed to be done. 

‘You can go on and wander around with the others, Balin.’ Thorin said with a sigh. ‘I will not hold you here while I suffer through my own mistakes.’

Balin was silent before Thorin felt himself being embraced for a short moment. And with that, Balin left Thorin.

The moment he was left in silence, Thorin remembered what he had told Bilbo the night they had lain together. It was after the Company had given him a surprise feast for his Name Day and Thorin had, in turn, confessed to Bilbo. He could remember how he had wanted to give Bilbo an amethyst circlet to begin their courtship, how he would have done so were he not a poor blacksmith on a suicidal quest to reclaim a mountain kingdom from a dragon. 

Perhaps that was where he can begin.

With renewed hope for his current predicament, Thorin left his suite and went in search of a forge of some sort. He would be able to purchase amethysts here and knowing Mirkwood, it was likely Thranduil had been having good ties with the other dwarven kingdoms of the East so he would have gold Thorin can use. Recalling the sickness that had almost taken him, Thorin stopped and sighed.

Bilbo might grow upset with him if he presented gold to the hobbit.

Silver.

Silver was safer than Gold.

The more Thorin thought over the metal, the more convinced he was that it was the best choice for him and Bilbo. Besides, silver would stand out easier in his copper curls better than gold would have.

Already, he was mentally planning out the courting gift he had in mind. It would not be too opulent, knowing Bilbo, his hobbit was not too showy about riches. Bilbo had told him of such. But it would be ornate in the shape it will be forged in. He had to be able to show everyone that Bilbo would be tied to the King Under the Mountain and that he was not lesser than Thorin in any way. He pondered over putting a dragon’s head there but he chose not to and instead opted for something more Ereborean in shape so Bilbo would not look out of place.

Stopping a passing elf, Thorin asked if they had a forge in these halls and he could see the discomfort in the elf’s expression as he sought to answer the dwarf king. When the elf finally conceded to Thorin requesting to be led to the forge, Thorin looked around the forge and wrinkled his nose. It looked too small and everything felt constricting like a tomb.

This was nothing like the great forges of Erebor and it was even lesser than the forges of the poorest of blacksmiths.

‘Do you have amethysts?’ Thorin asked. 

The elf nodded. ‘Would you like to see them?’ They asked hesitantly. Thorin looked blankly at him in response.

‘How else do you think I would be able to choose what I would need?’ He asked with a frown. ‘Is it safe to assume that I would also be able to buy silver as well?’ He asked.

‘I will bring you some of both along with the head of the Merchants’ Guild.’ The elf said with a quick bow. 

With the elf gone, Thorin rummaged around the forge in search of anything to use to draw out the circle he had in mind for Bilbo. When he found a stick of charcoal and a piece of dirtied parchment, he started sketching out the details he needed.

He will find a way to fix this.

He just had to. Bilbo meant too much for him to lose his One just because of a single mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thorin wants to make amends and that’s nice and all but the question is…was a circlet with gems the best choice? Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and please don’t hesitate to comment as it keeps me motivated!


	29. Chapter 29

Fíli never thought he would see the day he would be working with an elf over something so childish. 

Contrary to popular belief, Fíli was not as playful as his younger brother and is actually more serious and focused on his duties as the heir apparent of Erebor even before the Quest. So whenever he was caught in the midst of a prank, it was really him finding out about it, trying to stop his brother from doing it and then becoming an accidental accomplice.

This was the first time he had joined something without being pulled into the scheme in the middle of it.

‘So, are you sure this is even wise?’ Fíli heard himself asking, his eyes fixed on their target.

The guard he was helping, Pedwegion, snorted. ‘It hardly counts as wise. Nothing is when it’s Chalking Day.’ The elf said with a small grin. ‘Trust me, dwarf prince, just aim and throw and we will handle the rest.’

The goal was to mark Felfendir’s uncle, Athedhelon, and though he was scared of being seen, he still chose to participate. Especially since Bilbo seemed genuinely amused at the idea while he stayed on the bed, watching the four young men crowd around at the terrace. He found that if Bilbo found it amusing then he’d be happy to entertain the hobbit.

‘You lot will get noticed even before you could throw that powder.’ The hobbit called out from where he sat on his bed, rubbing his swollen middle. ‘Mark my words, all that crowding around will do you boys no favours.’ 

Fíli pulled a face and he knew that he agreed with what the hobbit had to say. But the thing is, he didn’t mind it. There were no damaging consequences to this, there were no lives at stake, there was nothing to risk beyond his tunic being stained with even more colourful powder than he already is.

Taking the makeshift sling Pedwegion had made, Fíli placed the package where the powder was in and spun the sling round before he released it, watching as the package made contact with the older, blond elf and exploded enough to cover most of his back and some of his sides with a very saturated blue shade. 

The reaction was instantaneous and expletives in the elven tongue was heard as the older elf looked around for whoever had chalked him. That was when Fíli noticed he had accidentally streaked the blond elf’s hair with the over-saturated blue and he found himself grinning at the sight.

‘Run!’ Pedwegion hissed before he stood up and pretended to be fixated on the climbing flower vines snaking up the tree of Thranduil’s home. Felfendir proceeded to fall flat on his face while Miludîn joined Fíli in escaping back to Bilbo’s bed.

Fíli didn’t need to be told twice as he ran and scrambled up Bilbo’s bed, laughing while the hobbit looked at him with poorly concealed amusement. Anoriel, on the other hand, was shaking her head and smiling at him. 

* * *

Thranduil had just finished a meeting with Lady Golbahar and Lord Ila about renewing their contracts with one another in regards to their trades. For all his youth, Thranduil found his interaction with Ila to be pleasant. The Hand of Mahal was a genial young dwarrow who was fond of learning about cultures and Lady Golbahar, while more reserved than her outgoing heir, was every bit as serene and calm as her son had described to him.

Though he was still dealing with a headache from Oakenshield and the Company as a whole, he was at least glad to remember that there was diplomatic dwarven royalty in his midst as well. Leaving the conference room where the discussions on their trades and alliances were held, Thranduil smiled at Glanduron who was speaking with Golbahar about his travels to the East in the past. As the four leaders walked through the halls, he frowned when he recognised one of the younger elves leading the one he knew to be the leader of the Merchants’ Guild.

‘Idhorfiligon,’ He called out to the young ellon. ‘Where is it you go to with our guildmaster?’ He asked, excusing himself from the group.

The normally quiet elf lad looked at him with wide eyes before he spoke.

‘The King Under the Mountain has a project he wishes to do in the forge here.’ He explained with a slight shrug. ‘He asked me to fetch silver and amethysts but since that is kept with the merchants and the like, I’m bringing the guildmaster with me so they could speak with one another.’ 

Thranduil frowned upon hearing the plans of the dwarf king. Looking at Glanduron who seemed to have heard what the younger ellon had said, Thranduil gestured for them to continue on. Excusing himself from his current companions, Thranduil followed the two elves and already he felt the headache returning. Massaging his temples, he listened as Idhorfiligon spoke with the guildmaster, Melistindir who seemed to be looking confused at what the poor boy was saying with rapid urgency. He could make out things such as displeased, hostile, almost threatening and Thranduil felt himself bristle slightly at the thought of Oakenshield intimidating anyone under his protection. As they got to the simple forge his father had set up long ago, Thranduil paused when he caught sight of Oakenshield puttering about the forge rearranging everything there. For a moment, Thranduil could feel his blood boil but he sighed and massaged his forehead. Maintaining his calm, the Elvenking followed his subjects and he watched from the shadows as Melistindir took to showing him small samples of amethysts and silver to Oakenshield who seemed to be looking for a particular cut among the samples. Already, Thranduil could feel a suspicion in him grow on what it was the dwarf king had designs on making.

As he drew closer - without the dwarf seeing him - he froze when he heard Thorin speak of the amethysts that would be the centrepiece of his gift for Bilbo.

Thranduil was no fool. He was no stranger to Ereborean customs, after all, he had heard of enough from dwarves who think they are being secretive enough for him to learn the courting customs of Erebor. 

Thranduil left before either of the three could find him.

* * *

It had been an hour or two after Fíli had been brought out of the inner kingdom by Anoriel when he received another visitor. It was Raudoron. Covered in a great deal of pink powder.

To Bilbo’s surprise, Raudoron was the only one among the Woodland Royal family to have been chalked. He had stormed in, fuming due to his hair having been chalked along with the top half of his tunic and how he was unable to catch his assailant when he gave chase.

Bilbo bit back a laugh when he saw him though he did grow curious since Lagoryn wasn’t chalked yet seeing as he apparently was not as fast as his brothers and yet he insists on still going out on Chalking Day. 

‘Before you ask,’ Raudoron said, trying to shake off the pastel pink powder from his hair. ‘Lagoryn is not unattached. Cirdan is his husband which gives him immunity as is the rule.’ Huffing, Raudoron carded his fingers through his hair, cursing as he did so. ‘Trust them to choose the one colour that seems to like my hair too well.’ He muttered.

As Bilbo was about to suggest some remedies to wash out any sort of coloured stain, Thranduil entered, muttering about something that left a dark cloud in his wake. When he caught sight of Bilbo and Raudoron, Thranduil smiled wryly.

‘You knew the risks of Chalking Day, _muindor_.’ The Elvenking said, reaching up to try and get the powder out of his younger brother’s hair. 

Raudoron shot a warning glare to Thranduil who only chuckled and waved him off, advising him to hide out in his room until the day is done and they check who got chalked among the people of the Woodland Realm. With Raudoron gone, Thranduil looked at Bilbo who was looking at him with an amused fondness.

‘To think Thorin had told me you were uncaring.’ Bilbo said at last. Thranduil shrugged before seating himself beside the hobbit.

‘Different perspectives.’ The Elvenking said simply. ‘Though I was told by Anoriel prior to my meeting with the Lord and Lady of the Eastern Dwarven Kingdoms that you had said you will be meeting with the Company tomorrow.’

Bilbo grew silent and for a moment, Thranduil could have sworn that he saw anxiety in Bilbo as the hobbit looked at the opening in his room leading to the terrace. 

‘I can’t keep hiding from them, Thranduil.’ Bilbo said, his voice hushed. ‘It’s just not…right.’

Thranduil nodded. ‘I can not force you to stay here when you have kin among them as well.’ The Elvenking said slowly, ‘Though I must forewarn you that Oakenshield has designs to earn your favour once more. I advise you to be careful, I do not wish to see you hurt.’ Thranduil said gently before he rose and moved to leave the room. 

‘Thranduil.’ Bilbo called out, his voice no more than a whisper.

The Elvenking turned to look at Bilbo once more. The hobbit met his gaze and he saw an unsure smile grace the hobbit’s lips.

‘Thank you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty much just a filler chapter but still, I hope you guys like it! Please don’t hesitate to comment, it keeps me motivated! :3


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating! I'm currently dealing with writer's block but then I remembered I have this Ri family-centric chapter and figured you guys deserved to read this anyway!

Legolas was just minding his own business.

Well, trying to mind his own business while keeping away from the rest of the younger elves in case they want to try and see if they could chalk him. 

He had spoken with some of the heirs of the Lord Dáin and Lady Golbahar, trying to see what it was they needed from the Woodland Realm so he would be able to ensure that their needs would be met. Granted, the fiery-haired heir of Lord Dáin was whisked away by the youngest heir Under the Mountain while they were still speaking with one another, but they were at least able to discuss the more important matters at hand. Among them being a formal apology from both his father and him for participating in a short-lived battle with the people of the Woodland Realm.

‘We genuinely thought you had designs of laying a siege on Thorin and the Company, you see.’ Torsten explained, ‘we are ashamed to admit that our care for our kinsmen had clouded our judgement to the point of fighting our closest ally.’

Legolas grimaced and recalled the countless injured among their people. The ones who had lost their limbs or sight, those who had marred flesh with gouges being made on their faces. The countless soldiers who their healers had had to make numbing glamours for so the other elven kingdoms would not think any lesser of them more than they already did. But looking at Dáin’s son, the elf found that he didn’t fault him.

‘If it were my uncles being laid siege to, I think I’d have done the same.’ He said after a pause. Looking at Torsten, Legolas sighed. ‘I cannot speak for my fathers as they are the ones to ultimately make the decision, but I think our alliance with one another should still stand.’

Torsten nodded. ‘The same could be said on behalf of my father.’

After that, he was left alone for a while. That suited him just fine seeing as he was also trying to keep away from anyone who looks remotely untrustworthy. (Which means any elf that had a streak of colour on their hands and clothing) The Elf Prince figured that he was at least able to go to one spot in the Woodland Realm where he would not be found by just bout anyone. 

That plan was not to be.

Just as he rounded the corner, he came across the path of the Ri brothers. At least that was how they were referred to by the company. They seemed to have been the most eager to roam around the parts of the Woodland Realm that they were permitted to see, though whenever Legolas did see them they always seemed to be speaking to an elf in search of someone. He was certain they were seeking out Apharchlalaithon but he was uncertain as they seemed to stumble on the name too much which the elf prince found just turns the name they were saying into incomprehensible babble. Though whenever he hears them describe this elf they sought, he was growing more and more certain that the elf they sought was his father’s respected council member.

Legolas would be an absolute liar if he said that he wasn’t curious about what it was the brothers wanted from one of the oldest residents of the Woodland Realm. Apparently, when he inquired about it to Feren, the captain had explained that they had asked him about Apharchlalaithon as well which made Legolas think over carefully.

‘Were these brothers present when the Sacking took place?’ Legolas asked Feren, pretending not to notice the violent smear of purple on the captain’s tunic.

Feren looked at Legolas, a confused look crossing his aged face before he sighed and shook his head.

‘We will have to consult with Handelon and Athedhelon for that. They had kept the records of every family and the length they had stayed with us.’ Feren said, gesturing to the library they had passed. ‘But even then, I am unsure if we will find them as we do not have a family under the name of “Ri”.’

Legolas tilted his head, pondered and he brightened up immediately. If confusion and lack of clarity is the risk they had, why not rid themselves of that lack of clarity by asking the very source of that confusion? 

‘We can always speak with them.’ Legolas said brightly. ‘They do not seem to be averse to speaking with our people and in fact, they are quite polite to us, even the thief among the brothers. What do we have to lose?’

Feren looked at the prince, alarmed at the eagerness.

‘What in Eru’s name brought on this interest for the dwarves?’ The captain asked not unkindly. ‘You were absolutely indifferent to them prior this and now you wish to ask about their interest and ties to finding a council member.’

Legolas shrugged. ‘We are currently surrounded by dwarves, three of which are not as horrid as their king and are actively seeking us out to speak with us, why can we not use that as a chance to actually speak with them?’ Pausing, the elf prince added, ‘That and I find myself curious about their desire to find this elf.’

Feren looked at the prince carefully before he gestured vaguely for the prince to do as he will. He knew Legolas well enough not to stop the boy when an urge overtakes him seeing as those impulses were rarely any danger to anyone. Smiling widely at the older elf, Legolas ran off, not before shouting out the information he had withheld.

‘You might want to track down whoever had chalked you, Feren! We only have a few more hours before sundown!’ Legolas shouted, his laughter ringing like tinkling bells through the Elvenking’s Halls.

Feren cursed and twisted this way and that to try and find the stain. Finally, he reached behind him and spat out a curse when his fingers came away with the powdered chalk staining his fingers.

It didn’t take too long for Legolas to find the Ri brothers as they never really seemed to be far from one another. They were huddled close to one another at the library, seeming to be making an attempt to decipher something. Leaning over the three dwarves, Legolas recognised the sheets of parchment as the census his father had begun when the refugees of Erebor had resided within the inner kingdom. He smiled faintly.

‘You know you will not be able to understand our writing without one of us to help you.’ He told the youngest who seemed to be trying his best to read the text he vaguely remembered Athedhelon to have written. 

He watched as all three dwarves turned to face him with wide eyes. Though he did not miss the wariness in the middle brother’s russet eyes. Legolas smiled as disarmingly as he could - anyone with an iota of common sense would know better than to trust that smile even if the elf prince meant it - before he proceeded to seat himself in a nearby chair before gesturing to the sheet.

‘May I?’ Legolas asked.

The silver-haired one, the eldest, pushed the papers to him and he flipped through the sheets with a sureness of one who was familiar with what he was seeing.

‘Who exactly are you seeking?’ Legolas asked, his tone absent as he lost himself in the lists of sponsors and hosts for the refugees.

‘Well, we sort of gave up finding the elf by the name we were given.’ The youngest said, his voice hesitant. ‘But we’re trying to find out his name and where he is through finding our mother’s name here.’

Legolas hummed in thought. ‘And what is her name?’ 

‘Sindri.’ The middle brother said evenly.

Legolas froze.

He turned to face the brothers and looked at them. Now that he saw them closely, he could see the little dwarves that ran round the inner kingdom with an ash blond elf following closely, carrying a basket of groceries for a ginger dwarrowdam.

‘I think I know who you seek.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this and please comment, I know I haven't been replying but just know I loved every single comment you've left and I appreciate your support so much!!


	31. Chapter 31

‘Bilbo, must we really be out here in the open?’ Pedwegion asked, eyes flicking to the passing elves with nary a streak of colour to their clothes.

‘It’s just that today is still... _ today _ .’ Felfendir continued, grimacing slightly. ‘That and I did just help mark my uncle and-’

‘Are you frightened of him getting back at you?’ The hobbit asked his two guards as they shadowed him to the main “town” of the Woodland Realm.

He had gotten bored rather quickly after Fíli had been escorted back to his quarters by Anoriel and Mîludin and so he asked for them to take him around the kingdom. At first, there were protests but then Bilbo ended up commenting on how Felfendir’s uncle was making his way to Thranduil’s home which led to them leading Bilbo out of the tree home through the back door.

‘It’s not that we’re frightened of him fighting back.’ Pedwegion said slowly - a rare occurrence for the rapidly speaking elf - ‘so much as worried about his methods of getting back at us.’

‘Which often features him frightening us.’ Felfendir added, shuddering slightly.

Bilbo looked at both boys, concern welling up in him. He had seen how Thorin punished Fíli and Kíli and the hobbit could never erase the sheer fear he could see in Fíli’s face whenever they were berated by the older dwarrow. As if realising what had gone through his mind, Felfendir shook his head and smiled reassuringly at him.

‘It’s nothing awful.’ He told Bilbo. ‘By frighten, it’s more of him jumping at us out of nowhere. He’s known the forest better than us, you see.’

Bilbo nodded, still doubtful. Athedhelon looked a bit stern when he saw the older elf from a distance and he did not know if that was only because he might be on duty or because he simply was a stern person. 

‘My uncle may look like he does not care about me or my friends, but I assure you that he is a good man.’ Felfendir added as they came upon what Bilbo assumed was a market. ‘He did raise me, after all.’

‘He’s also got a very attractive smile.’ Pedwegion threw in with a smirk at Felfendir who spluttered. ‘That was the consensus for all of the Woodland Realm at least.’

Bilbo chuckled and shook his head.

* * *

They had been wandering the market when Bilbo caught sight of someone he remembered those four months past. He recognised him because of the crutch he was using to help support his weight. The ash-blond hair was also a distinguishing feature for the hobbit.

‘Apharchlalaithon!’ Bilbo called out, making his way to the elf.

The ash-blond elf turned his attention to Bilbo and he smiled slightly before bowing his head in greeting.

‘Master Hobbit.’ He greeted. ‘I apologise if our paths had not crossed in the winter.’

Gesturing to his wooden leg, Apharchlalaithon smiled wryly. ‘As you can see, I was quite indisposed.’

Bilbo chuckled and nodded. ‘I hope you’re able to walk easier now?’ 

A wan smile graced his lips and the elf shook his head. ‘Unfortunately, I think it would take me more than a hundred years to adjust to this.’ He confessed, a trace of bitterness in his tone. ‘And you? Life here had been treating you kindly, I hope?’

The hobbit looked at his three guards - all young by their people’s standards - and he smiled faintly. ‘Well, I’ve found a family if that’s what you’re asking.’ He replied. ‘Are you buying something?’ He asked, changing the subject.

Apharchlalaithon shook his head. ‘No, I was just called here by my cousin to watch over her stall for the time being.’ He explained, gesturing to said stall that resembled an apothecary. Dried or powdered herbs were kept in jars, elixirs in vials, poultices in various bowls and containers. Bilbo nodded.

‘Can I interest you in anything?’ The ash-blond elf asked, though Bilbo noticed how he didn’t really sound like he was trying to sell anything. It was just an offhand question that sounded almost playful were it not tinged with the lingering presence of everything in his life.

Bilbo shook his head.

‘I’m just here to look around.’ He explained as he made to leave him be. ‘Though may I offer you my congratulations that you are unscathed still?’

Understanding what the hobbit meant by that, the elf let out a quiet chuckle before shaking his head. ‘By my people’s tradition, I am already married. I am safe.’

‘That and striking him while he still does not have his balance would have been in poor taste.’ Felfendir added before briefly hugging the ash-blond elf. ‘Uncle will be by tonight with your new crutches to better help you with adjusting to your new leg.’ The younger elf promised before turning to face Bilbo.

‘Shall we?’ He gestured vaguely to the stretches of stalls where various elves wandered.

To Bilbo’s surprise, he even saw some toddlers, children and adolescent elves running around as well. An approaching lady elf even had a baby strapped to her front in a sling.

‘We hide our children.’ Felfendir explained, his gaze trained on Bilbo. ‘The world finds them and Eru only knows what they can do.’ 

Bilbo didn’t speak for a moment before he nodded.

‘Right.’ Walking forward, Bilbo looked at Felfendir who was looking at some of the stalls. ‘Do-do you know a good place I could find wood for a mobile?’ Bilbo asked hesitantly. ‘And maybe rattles?’

Stopping in his steps, Felfendir looked at Bilbo before he nodded. ‘I can take you to a friend of mine, he has some supply that we could make use of.’

Bilbo nodded. ‘And we should get some ingredients, I want to cook something for tomorrow.’ He added.

‘For your friends, I assume?’

‘And for Thorin.’

The sand brown-haired elf paused and looked at him carefully for a moment before he nodded.

‘Very well.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short update! But I just wanted to try and segue the preparation for Thorin AND for the Ri brothers' meeting with their dad! Anyway, comments are welcome and very much appreciated!!


	32. Chapter 32

‘This way.’ Legolas called out to the brothers, his steps speeding up as they came to the marketplace of the inner kingdom.

He had made the Ri brothers vow themselves to secrecy when he brought them to meet the man they called their father. They were quite compliant and he was quite glad for it. On the way, he had seen how the elder two would tell the youngest about all the things they could recognise, point out homes that they had visited, even tell their baby brother about the friendships their mother had formed with the people of the Woodland Realm. To hear these stories untainted by the bitterness most dwarves held was nothing short of a blessing for the elf prince and he found himself smiling at such a thought.

Of course, that was until someone crashed into him causing a smoke of bright yellow to puff out around them

Legolas cursed and met the gaze of Meranwar. He narrowed his eyes at the elf captain eight centuries his senior before scrambling to stand only for Meranwar to begin running leaving Legolas with half of his tunic stained. Muttering an oath to himself to push the captain in the river, Legolas lightly dusted the tunic before turning his attention to the brothers who watched the event unfold with an amused smile.

‘In all the eight years we spent here, I don’t think I’ve seen this happen before.’ Dori started as he went to Legolas who pulled a face in response.

‘Apharchlalaithon was wise in his decision to hole up with you two and your mother every first day of spring.’ He explained with a wry smile. ‘I’m certain he would have told you that it was something as solemn as Durin’s Day but it is this wild celebration instead.’ 

Giving a glance at the three, Legolas raised his brows at them. ‘Disappointed?’ 

The one with the three-pointed hair snorted and gave him a toothy grin. ‘Disappointed? Wish Adad told us, you mean! We all could have targeted someone!’

‘And you boys would have gotten away with it too if you had.’ Legolas said with a snort. ‘I could remember all the mischief you had gotten past just because you boys blinked those eyes of yours looking so near tears.’

It did not escape the elf prince’s attention that the youngest seemed to have a wistfulness in him while he listened to his banter and Legolas grinned at him.

‘Do not worry, if I know Apharchlalaithon, he would be more than happy to spoil you three regardless of age.’ He assured the boy before he gestured to the collection of stalls stretching before them. ‘He is not hard to miss,’ The elf prince told the brothers. ‘Simply look for the elf seated at an apothecary stall.’

* * *

Apharchlalaithon had been helping with Itaril for the past hour or so since Bilbo had left, even managing to sell a poultice and some dried herbs in exchange for linen and parchment for his cousin. He never did understand why other races relied so heavily on currency instead of bartering but the blond elf never really chose to ask about that with Sindri when she lived with him. He just kept the coin he earned and then gave it all to Sindri when it was time for her and the boys to leave.

‘How is motherhood treating you, cousin?’ He asked, smiling at his cousin as she bounced the infant on her lap.

Itaril looked at him with her bright-eyed gaze and she shrugged slightly.

‘It has its difficulties and blessings.’ She replied simply. ‘Renlothil had been a well-behaved child by far and she only cries when she wants to be fed or changed.’ She explained, handing the wild-haired babe to the older elf who took her in his arms and adjusted his hold on the infant.

Renlothil was born shortly after the battle and Apharchlalaithon had already grown attached to the young elleth that was the perfect mix of his cousin and her husband. It had been far too long since he had held a babe but somehow, he still managed to keep Renlothil safe in his arms. Smiling at the child, the ash-blond elf raised the babe up and made faces at it, chuckling when he heard the giggles it was letting out. 

‘You’re quite good with children.’ Itaril remarked, a small smile on her lips. ‘And they always seemed to love you best.’

Looking at his cousin, Apharchlalaithon stayed silent and gently combed back Renlothil’s hair, smiling at the curious gaze of the infant in his arms. 

‘Have you thought of having your own, cousin?’ Itaril asked. ‘Only, you’ve been so lonely for so long and I know you were never a solitary person.’

Apharchlalaithon paused and for a moment, he could remember that time when he considered himself blessed by the Valar. He who had lived through loss and heartache had been able to find a family in those that did not share his blood. Pressing his lips together, the older elf returned the babe to his cousin and clapped his hand on her shoulder.

‘I like to think I have had the experience of fatherhood already.’ He told Itaril in a hushed voice. ‘It is just that things never last for me and this is similar to such an experience I’ve come to expect for myself.’ He added with a smile that was barely seen. 

‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that.’ The voice of the Woodland Realm’s Prince broke the cousins’ conversation and Apharchlalaithon turned his head to face Legolas who bore a smug smile as he stood before the former soldier. 

‘Pardon, Your Highness?’ He asked as politely as possible.

Legolas smirked at him and stepped aside to reveal three dwarrows to him. Two of them looked vaguely familiar to him but he found himself unable to recognise who they were and he looked helplessly at Itaril who seemed to have recognised them.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ The dwarrow with three points in their hair asked, their voice sharp and accusatory as if seeking to find fault in the elf prince.

Hurriedly, Apharchlalaithon rose to try and explain his problem only for him to lose balance which Itaril had rushed to help him correct. Cursing under his breath, he looked at the three dwarves - all three sported a bead that were identical, he vaguely recalled Sindri explaining Family Beads and he supposed that was what they wore - who all seemed to be looking at him in varying expressions of worry and anxiety.

‘Do not blame His Highness.’ He spoke, his grip on the crutch Itaril had handed to him tightened minutely. ‘I’m afraid I lack the ability to recognise features if I had not seen a person in awhile or if I was absent during a time they were growing up.’

‘If it makes you feel better, Apharchlalaithon did not recognise Itaril when she had her hair cut short for the summer.’ Legolas told the elder two dwarrows who looked to be crestfallen. ‘And that was only with the two being unable to visit each other for eight months.’

‘But does he even remember us?’ The silver-haired dwarrow pressed the elf prince.

‘What are your names?’ Apharchlalaithon asked, his brows knitting together as he looked at the two elder dwarrows. ‘I had met a number of dwarves after the Sacking and it is likely I still remember your names if you tell me.’

He saw hesitation between the two but the one that spoke was the one that looked to be the youngest. 

‘My brothers’ names are Dori and Nori, sons of Sindri.’ The dwarrow blurted out, his face turning red after realising he spoke and he ducked his head.

Apharchlalaithon only ended up looking at the three, meeting each hopeful gaze and for a moment, he tried to connect the children he had cared for with the world wearied faces before him. Swallowing past the dryness of his throat, the elf carefully sank to the ground, cursing as his prosthetic refused to move its joints. With trembling fingers, he unbuckled the straps and ignored the unsettling feeling of removing the wooden leg just so he could look at them better.

‘ _ Ionneg _ ?’ He breathed out, his voice cracking at the sight. ‘How on earth-’

Before he could even process what had happened, the ash-blond elf found himself embraced by the three dwarrows. Two of which he had helped raise and one who was a complete stranger to him. But still, he held them all as close as he managed, the pain that refused to leave his lost leg becoming a forgotten sensation for him in that moment as he tried to keep the memories of that family he had once found to himself once more.

‘We missed you, Adad.’ The dwarf with three-pointed hair, who Apharchlalaithon was sure was Nori, mumbled as he buried his face in the elf’s tunic. He was aware of Dori’s shaking in his hold while the youngest held onto him in a tight-fisted manner.

He found that he did not mind it and he let out a trembling breath.

‘I missed you as well, my children.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's at least one reunion going right! Apharchlalaithon has no sense of facial permanence and usually has to always be exposed to the sight of his companions for him to always remember how they look. So when Ori told him, well, things just kinda clicked for him. Now, how will he react to the news of him being Ori's dad? 
> 
> Also, Ori is around 163 years old here, it's just that he's half-elf hence why he looks younger than even Kíli. Thanks so much for sticking with this story and please don't hesitate to comment on this as it keeps me motivated!


	33. Chapter 33

‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’ Bilbo asked in amusement as Felfendir tried to make the wood bend to his will once more. ‘You look like you’re struggling.’

Shooting him a warning glance, Bilbo rolled his eyes and returned to what he was cooking.

He was making beef stew with dumplings along with apple batter pudding just to give them something sweet but he had to restrain himself from making an absolute feast out of the ingredients he bought since he had to remind himself that he was still quite cross with  _ some  _ of them.

_ One _ of them.

_ Thorin _ .

The lout that put him in a situation that would have had him be a laughingstock of the Shire if it weren’t for Thranduil and his kindness and his horribly misunderstood people that he figuratively adopted to keep everyone’s noses out of the Woodland Realm’s affairs. Honestly, to think Bilbo ever even  _ believed _ Thorin-

A crash broke Bilbo out of his thoughts and he turned around, worried for his guard only to stop himself from laughing.

‘I swear to Elbereth it was  _ almost  _ the shape of a blasted rattle.’ Felfendir told the hobbit, holding up splintered plywood, some of it had even found a home in his hair.

‘I think we should just give it up and see what we could do about this.’ Bilbo said as he approached Felfendir who sheepishly handed him the wood. ‘It’s a shame you’re not as good a woodworker as you are a protector.’ Bilbo commented fondly at Felfendir who shrugged.

‘Pedwegion is at least almost done with the mobile.’ He commented, gesturing to the sitting room of Thranduil’s home where Pedwegion had decided it was the perfect place to work in.

‘I...thought he was more of a scholar.’ Bilbo said with a confused smile. ‘Pedwegion never struck me as someone interested in this.’

‘He is not.’ Felfendir chuckled and parted the curtains that separated the sitting room from the kitchen. The two peered at the caramel-haired elf who was sanding down wood and consulting scattered pieces of papers with various scrawls and sketches before returning to his task. ‘He simply read a guide on how to make various things from wood and set off from what he studied.’

‘You boys.’ Bilbo chuckled and shook his head before returning to his stew. ‘Now, since you made an absolute mess out of the toy meant for the babe, you’ll have no choice but to help me.’ He told Felfendir as he tossed a nearby apron at the elf.

Catching the apron, Felfendir bowed his head and smiled. ‘All too gladly, Bilbo.’ He replied. ‘Though be warned, Pedwegion is better than I am if you want anything impressive for your dwarves.’

Bilbo snorted. He wasn’t  _ that _ kind. Not yet at least. ‘I want something  _ edible _ , Felfendir. It doesn’t have to be anything big. Just edible.’ 

‘That.’ His guard told him with a slight twitch to his lips. ‘I can  _ definitely  _ do.’

* * *

Kíli had found Torsten at the music hall of Mirkwood. Beside him was the youngest among the dwarf lords, Lord Ila, and Dwalin’s two sons, Roshan and Golshan. The sight did not make him jealous. At least, not until Torsten laughed at something Lord Ila said to him. Kíli had grown... _ fond _ of Dáin’s heir and he liked to think Torsten felt the same but both of them were quite on the opposite ends of the spectrum in regards to their attractiveness.

Torsten was among the most handsome dwarrows if Erebor, the Iron Hills, Belegost and Nogrod were to be asked. Flaming red hair, various braids that spoke of his accomplishments, a tattoo of a secret meaning only he and his parents knew of, jade eyes that seemed to bore into your very soul. He was also a skilled fighter, a scholar and healer. He was... _ perfect _ .

Kíli on the other hand? Well, he was hardly attractive as a dwarf. He was a hunter out of necessity but he liked to think him being a weaver was nothing shameful. Unfortunately, he constantly kept his beard shaved so as to make sure his arrows would not have anything be an obstacle. Mahal only knew he was just now learning of ways to keep his arrows from getting tangled into anything.

‘Kíli?’ Hearing Torsten’s kind voice, Kíli shook away his musings and smiled as his gaze met the young lord.

‘I heard you were here listening to elven music.’ He said as he moved to sit behind Torsten seeing as he’d been sandwiched by the other three dwarrows.

‘There’s nothing wrong with appreciating the music of my father’s allies.’ Torsten replied easily, twisting around so he may speak to Kíli directly. ‘I’m assuming my questionable taste in music is not the reason you came here?’ He asked gently.

Kíli was silent.

It was true that he usually had a reason for their various meetings. The first time was because Torsten was his appointed healer after the battle and that Torsten refused to leave Kíli be until he was able to walk by himself. Then there were the short exercises to get Kíli used to moving around again. Then when Kíli was deemed well enough to move around the mountain, he asked if Torsten could help him manage his duties as Prince of Erebor during Thorin’s absence thus making him Kíli’s informal advisor. Then Kíli began seeking him out for sparring sessions just so he could see him more. Then Thorin returned and Kíli began seeking Torsten’s company out for meals, conversation, advice,  _ anything _ . This diplomatic trip to Mirkwood was the first time he had not sought out Torsten and to see Torsten so relaxed in other dwarrows’ presence without seeking him out was rather unsettling.

‘Kíli?’ Torsten spoke, his voice quiet. ‘What may I do for you,  _ Âzyungûn _ ?’

Kíli froze when he heard the word Torsten used on him and as he looked at the other three dwarrows, they seemed unfazed and were just listening to the sleep-inducing elven music being played. Looking at Dáin’s heir, he saw no regret or bashfulness in him whatsoever, he looked so sure and confident.

‘Could we speak? Outside?’ He blurted out, grabbing Torsten’s arm and hauling him up - which proved to be a slight difficulty as Torsten weighed a bit heavier in comparison to him.

Chuckling, Torsten nodded and waved away the concerned glances Ila, Roshan and Golshan threw at the two of them.

‘For you, Kíli? Anything.’ Taking Kíli’s hand, Torsten led him out of the music hall.

* * *

‘What are you doing?’

Thorin muttered an oath as the voice of an intruder jolted him out of the delicate process of shaping his circlet. Scowling, he threw down his tools and spun around to demand privacy from whoever it was that was insolent enough to interrupt him when he had told the elves he had bought the amethysts and silver ingots from that he would need absolute silence to work.

Only to recognise the two elves that stood before him.

‘What is it to you?’ He gruffly answered, turning away from Bilbo’s guard and his assistant. He easily recognised the assistant due to her yellow gown and dark skin and he easily recognised the guard due to Bilbo being surrounded by those elf guards when his One came to speak with him.

‘His Majesty had warned Bilbo of a gift,’ The she-elf told him, her voice quiet. ‘We wanted to make sure this is not the sort of gift that would upset him.’

Clenching his jaw, Thorin picked up his tools and returned to shaping the circlet. He wanted it to echo the Raven Crown due to its symbolism and he was almost done with it when he felt the presence of the two elves near him further.

‘Leave me be.’ He ground out.

‘King Thorin, Bilbo is dear to us.’ The assistant told him. ‘We are not here to berate you but we only wish to know what this gift is for.’

‘It is only for me and Bilbo to know its meaning.’ Thorin replied shortly as he began preparing the amethysts he meant to put into the circlet. Seven for Durin’s Crown. ‘Elves have no place in dwarven affairs.’

‘Then you forget.’ The guard said mildly. ‘Bilbo is not your kind.’

‘He is a child of the earth,’ The assistant added in, ‘of nature and flowers. What use has he for metals and stones when all he desires is comfort and joy?’

Ignoring the two, Thorin laid the circlet on the worktable and began heating the metal where the gems would be placed. ‘I have no desire to upset my One by harming the elves he had unwisely adopted but know I will have no qualms to do so.’ He muttered.

There was silence.

‘Very well.’ The guard told him shortly. ‘Come, Anoriel.’

Satisfied at the granted silence, Thorin proceeded to work through the final parts of his project as he gently placed the amethysts where he wanted it to be. When he had finished, he smiled in satisfaction. The circlet looked to be as beautiful as he imagined it and he could hardly hear the silver or the stones sing anything too tempting nor did it have the enthralling voice that gold commonly had. Bilbo would no doubt appreciate this. Perhaps even ask for their meanings in his culture, share some of his own people’s culture. It could be like how they had shared customs with one another during Bilbo’s impromptu birthday celebration and Bilbo fussed about not having any gifts to give them.

Smiling wistfully, Thorin gently held the jewel in his hands and blew out a breath.

He will fix this.

He  _ can _ fix this.

For Bilbo, their unborn child...for  _ them _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>    
>  **Translation/s:**  
>    
> 
> 
> _**Âzyungûn** \- _roughly translated to “loved one”
> 
> In which we have Bilbo bonding with Felfendir and Pedwegion, Kíli having a smoother romance than his uncle, Thorin being an ass to elves and being hopeful that Bilbo would like his gift that he'll be presenting. Next chapter, we're gonna find out who wins Chalking Day, Thorin trying to convince Dáin and his spouse to help him see Bilbo, Pedwegion, Felfendir and Bilbo bonding and Torsten teaching Kíli how to blow glass.
> 
> Also, if you guys didn't know, I just released a Girl in Middle Earth-esque story with a twist where it's from my own original story's world where a prophet ends up in Arda with Frerin. If you could, please [check it out!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26559148/chapters/64745314)
> 
> Thanks so much for being patient with me, guys, this means a lot. Thanks for the continued support and I hope you continue to enjoy LBAF! As always, comments keep me motivated to write!


	34. Chapter 34

Bilbo knew that come dinner, there would be a feast for the visiting dignitaries. Thranduil had told him about it during a rant and he found himself unable to forget that so soon. He had promised the company his presence the next day but with him cooking the meal he wished to share with them, he expressed his plan of dining with Thranduil and the others to Felfendir.

Who had reacted with alarm before it faded to his usual calm expression.

‘Of course.’ He nodded, looking out of the balcony in Bilbo’s quarters. ‘I shall alert His Majesty to expect your presence.’ Excusing himself, Felfendir jogged out of Thranduil’s home.

Bilbo bit his bottom lip in concern as he watched his guard leave. Felfendir had always been terribly protective of him and Bilbo appreciated that. Pedwegion and Miludîn were protective but they weren’t the sort to hover too much or worry about every small detail. Pedwegion only panics if he did not have sufficient knowledge of something - like when Bilbo was dealing with his morning sickness - while Miludîn had always tamped down his panic to be able to function - a habit that Bilbo was trying to break in regards to Miludîn’s tendencies.

‘Felfendir will be fine.’ Pedwegion told him from where he was carefully carving animal charms for the mobile. ‘He is simply worried for your sake, nothing new really.’

‘There’s nothing to worry about.’ Bilbo told Pedwegion as he went to his bed and sat beside the caramel-haired elf. ‘It’s just a dinner between dignitaries, I’m sure that my dwarrows will do nothing to offend.’

Pedwegion paused in his carving - which looked decent. It was not spectacular like Bofur’s or Bifur’s, but it was good enough. - and looked at Bilbo, his head tilting ever so slightly.

‘Bilbo,’ Pedwegion started, ‘you know your dwarves best and I would never presume anything before I meet them but I will confess; I mistrust anyone that I know had hurt those I claimed as family.’

Bilbo looked at Pedwegion, eyes wide.

Pedwegion smiled slightly. ‘Ask Felfendir or Miludîn, you will know that I am normally unbiased about people until I had known them well enough to pass my verdict on them.’ Returning to his task, Pedwegion carefully carved away another piece of wood and eyed the block critically. ‘I find it difficult to trust your dwarves especially after the insults they had offered my people. Do you know what Imladris and Lothlorién call us?’

Bilbo shook his head.

Pedwegion set down the carving knife and the block of wood he was fashioning into a rabbit. Taking Bilbo’s hand, Bilbo caught hesitation in Pedwegion’s eyes before he placed Bilbo’s hand against his cheek.

At first, nothing happened.

And then, for only a fraction of a second, Pedwegion’s face flickered and burn scars and a long gash running from the elf’s hairline to his lower jaw appeared before Bilbo’s eyes before Pedwegion jerked back, gasping in pain. Bilbo was about to check if his guard was well, only for Pedwegion to wave him away.

‘They call us wild.  _ Feral _ .’ Pedwegion said, shaking. ‘We are unenlightened. Untouched by the light of the Two Trees. We are  _ lesser _ . To know your own kind looks down on you,’ Pedwegion snorted and looked back at his work, ‘and then to hear many other beings hate you? For what? For not going on a suicide mission? For not heeding the words of goldsick dwarves? My people hide from the world, from the darkness, from the hate, but it is not out of cowardice. We protect our own, Bilbo.’ Clenching his jaw, Pedwegion continued to carve the last details and let out a trembling breath. ‘The world will not have us nor forgive us for what we had done. So we only look after our own seeing as the world will not care if the  _ lesser _ elves suffer the darkness and  _ rot _ of their home.’

Bilbo was silent, unsure of the right reaction to Pedwegion’s openness. Pedwegion was normally the mischievous one among the three and he expected Felfendir to be the angry and embittered one after seeing his adoration for the kingdom. But all too clearly was Bilbo reminded of Pedwegion explaining the importance of the Woodland Realm’s name and he could recall Pedwegion’s wariness towards Dáin.

‘Well, I’m poor consolation.’ Bilbo said, placing a hand on Pedwegion’s arm. ‘But know that you’re not feral or wild or unenlightened to me. You’re not even any sort of evil. I quite like my company here.’ Bilbo smiled at Pedwegion who nodded and returned to his carving.

* * *

‘You’re joking.’ Lord Madhur told Thorin as they eyed the courting gift he proudly showed them. ‘Your Majesty, tell me you’re joking.’

Thorin looked at Dáin’s consort in confusion and he shook his head. ‘Why in Mahal’s name would I be joking about something as serious as this?’ He asked.

‘Well, let’s look at the many things that could go wrong.’ Madhur told Thorin, still seated on their husband’s lap. ‘First, you had not yet made a public announcement recanting your banishment of your One-’

‘I was not in my right mind!’ Thorin argued, ‘Any decrees I had made during my sickness must not be taken to heart!’

Madhur raised a pencilled brow before turning to look at Dáin.

‘Shall we tell him?’ They asked their husband.

Dáin grimaced.

‘Thorin, the lesser lords and ladies are always all too happy to kiss ass if it means rising in the ranks.’ Dáin snorted. ‘Already, their bannermen had returned to the Iron Hills to spread word of Master Baggins’ banishment. Believe me, it would take a kingdom-wide decree to clear your One’s name.’

Clenching his jaw, Thorin let out a breath through his nose and conceded to Madhur and Dáin’s point.

‘Very well, then I shall announce a decree recanting my banishment.’ It would not be that hard at least. If the lesser nobility were eager to please him then they would at least accept the change without complaint.

Hopefully.

Madhur nodded, looking unimpressed. ‘That’s  _ one _ obstacle removed, but another concern is the matter of inheritance.’ They explained. ‘Your people are expecting Dís’ sons to be your heirs and you had just told me that Bilbo will be bearing you a child.’ 

Thorin scowled and looked at Dáin’s spouse. ‘Another decree will be made. Fíli had been groomed and raised to rule after me and that will stand. My child will have little to no royal expectations put upon them and that will be the end of it.’

‘No’ exactly.’ Dáin interjected.

Thorin muttered a curse as he glared at his friend.

‘Balin told me you already tried to start a courtship with Bilbo using a  _ mithril shirt _ .’ Dáin said, his brows raising. ‘Thorin, as much as I enjoyed boldness you know you shouldn’t have done that without Bilbo knowing the significance of the gift.’

‘But Bilbo did know!’ Thorin protested. ‘I told him what the beginnings of our courtships would have been!’

Dáin hummed for a moment before shrugging.

‘Alright.’

‘But what of the goldsickness?’ Madhur added in, looking to their husband.

‘What about it?’ Thorin asked, his brows knitting together in annoyance.

‘I am not referring to you specifically, Your Majesty.’ Madhur replied calmly. ‘Only that I heard from reliable sources that you may have caused harm to your One because of that.’

Thorin stiffened at the bluntness Dáin’s spouse had spoken with. Madhur was never one to mince words in matters like these and he found himself both despising it and begrudgingly thanking them for it.

‘Who are these sources?’ Thorin asked, eyes narrowing.

‘They will be anonymous to you and known only to me.’ Madhur replied. ‘Now, how will gifting a circlet of precious stones and metal meant to regain your One’s affections?’

‘Bilbo would know I do not have the sickness anymore,’ Thorin argued. ‘He would know seeing as I no longer wear it nor do I hoard everything-’

‘And you are also prideful enough to only consider the courtship of your people instead of trying to think of a way that might truly earn back your hobbit’s favour.’ Madhur cut him off. 

Thorin scowled. ‘And you were courted the way a dwarrow would!’ He snapped.

Madhur looked up at the ceiling and muttered a prayer before they got off their husband’s lap.

‘Dáin courted me in the way of the Eastern Orocarni.’ They explained. ‘He had travelled to my home, asked to be tutored in the ways of the Eastern Orocarni dwarrows and when he knew enough, he courted me. Your argument is null, Your Majesty.’ 

‘Still, Bilbo would understand.’ Thorin shot back.

Madhur shrugged. ‘It is your choice.’

‘Even if he understood, Thorin,’ Dáin grimaced, ‘It’s not as if his standing father will permit this.’

Thorin stilled and looked at his friend.

‘Bungo Baggins is dead.’ Thorin said, confused. ‘Bilbo himself told me while he was bedridden in Laketown.’

Dáin snorted and laughed. Even Madhur was looking at their husband expectantly as the two dwarf nobles waited for the Iron Hills’ High Lord to regain his composure.

‘Oh aye, his blood father is passed.’ Dáin agreed. ‘But you see, he was adopted into a family recently.’

‘An elf family.’ Thorin continued, his voice dark as he thought of whoever it was that had the audacity to claim Bilbo as theirs. 

The first thought that came to mind was the dark-haired elf captain that constantly called Thorin “Little Prince.” After all, why in Mahal’s name would that elf have the  _ nerve _ to call him such an epithet?

‘Well, no’ just  _ any _ family.’ Dáin said with a suspicious glint in his eyes. ‘The Woodland Realm’s Royal Family itself.’

Thorin spat out a curse.

‘You’ll have to get Thranduil’s blessing for this.’

* * *

Torsten looked at Kíli and thought over what the prince had just told him. Rubbing his beard in thought, Dáin’s heir let out a breath.

‘Let me see if I have this right,’ he said, ‘you have found your missing company member. He is currently here under the watchful eyes of the Woodland Realm, is pregnant with Thorin Oakenshield’s child and he is traumatised by your uncle’s actions during the height of his goldsickness.’

‘Hurt.’ Kíli corrected him. ‘But so far, yes. You have a lot of it correct.’

Torsten nodded and blew out a breath. ‘And you are currently trying to think of a way to fix this?’ 

‘Trying to think of a way to be able to have Bilbo feel at ease with me and Fee at least.’ Kíli corrected. ‘A bit hard when he has to think of his little one.’ He muttered.

Torsten grimaced. ‘ _ Aaa _ and he is expecting as well. That will prove to be quite a challenge if he is averse to your company.’

‘Thankfully he seems more open to me and Fee and Ori.’ Kíli replied. ‘But he still seems uneasy.’

Torsten was silent before he blew out a breath. ‘Very well then, why don’t we begin with helping Master Bilbo with the preparation for his child.’

He would have said the King’s Heir but he highly doubted this hobbit of the West would want any political titles or references when talking about his child. Torsten may not have met the hobbit burglar yet but his bearer had known enough about hobbits to explain to him that in no way did they enjoy politics unless they were among the higher born hobbits.

‘Do you know how to blow glass, Kíli?’ He asked, ignoring his thoughts wandering to his lessons with his parent. ‘Because we could see if we could make some rattles for the child.’

‘Out of glass?’ Kíli asked doubtfully. ‘Even our glass-blowers at Ered Luin were unable to make unbreakable glass.’

‘We are in an elven realm.’ Torsten reminded the young prince with a smile. ‘Anything could be possible when you think of it.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhhhh, I've been constantly mentioning how other elven realms view the Woodland Realm and that's not letting up soon. But hey, we get to know how Pedwegion thinks at least! Meanwhile, we get Dáin and his spouse, Madhur, trying to be sensible but Thorin is v insistent that Bilbo would like what he made. And of course, Torsten and Kíli making some nice plans.
> 
> I hope you guys liked this! As always, I get motivated to keep writing with your comments and support!


	35. Chapter 35

Bilbo looked at himself in the mirror critically as he turned this way and that. He had changed for the formal dinner Thranduil had permitted him to join in but he was starting to question why he had to choose this specific attire. It was not a hideous thing, not to Bilbo, but the more he looked at the shade of blue of his outer robe and the silver tunic with geometric patterning paired with his black trousers, Bilbo worried his choice of clothing my be misconstrued as his forgiveness for Thorin.

‘You don’t look awful if that’s what you’re thinking.’ Legolas piped up from where he sat on Bilbo’s bed.

Turning to face his adoptive brother, Bilbo raised a brow at the elf prince who shrugged. He still had not gotten rid of the offensively yellow powder that had been smeared on his face and hair but he did at least change his clothes - or covered his dirtied clothes - into richer fabrics and robes. 

He was even wearing a circlet.

‘I never thought you would wear something so…’ Bilbo drifted off before shaking his head and returning his focus on his reflection in the mirror.

‘Elegant? Formal? Something fitting my station?’ Legolas asked as he turned to absently braiding his hair. ‘ _Honeg_ , I’m not always playful.’ 

Rising from the bed, Legolas approached the hobbit and knelt down behind Bilbo where he proceeded to begin braiding the hobbit’s hair.

‘And though I have no idea what is going through your head, I would like to assure you that you look quite well.’ The elf prince continued calmly as he secured Bilbo’s braid with the use of Bilbo’s stray locks. ‘If you think you look awful or fat or anything, just know that no one thinks you are unappealing.’

Bilbo snorted in disbelief at what Legolas was saying. ‘Oh, I know I’ve gained weight, Legolas, but I’m just questioning my decision for these robes specifically.’ He answered in amusement. ‘I appreciate the comfort but I’m not as insecure as you think.’

Ignoring his adoptive brother’s embarrassed flush, Bilbo proceeded to go over to his bed where Anoriel had placed a silver circlet with glowing white gemstones shaped like droplets. Taking it, Bilbo carefully settled it upon his head and looked at Legolas who was still clearly fumbling about with his words.

‘Now, let’s not delay our arrival shall we?’

* * *

‘Everyone seems to be late.’ Glanduron commented as he refilled his husband’s goblet with more wine. 

Thranduil sighed and looked at the table where only a select number of guests had been seated. The Crown Prince, Fíli was seated Lord Ila, Lady Golbahar, her sons and her paramour were settled a little ways down from where Thranduil and his husband were settled. It was courtesy to have the King Under the Mountain and his heirs seated as close as possible to Thranduil without taking the space for Thranduil’s own family.

Such as his sons that had yet to show.

Along with Bilbo’s three guards and assistant who he was meaning to corner into dining with them.

And his two younger brothers who are hidden in Eru only knew where.

It was fortunate that Thranduil had been more or less accustomed to eating on low tables ever since his youth that when he had called for the low tables to be used for their formal dinner, he managed to adjust easily. After all, he only just used the high tables and such when their human allies came or if Lady Galadriel or if Elrond came to visit him for any reason they saw fit. 

Eru only knew what offence the dwarrows would take if they were given the high tables.

‘If we are to delay any longer, I’m afraid that the dwarrows may decide to steal our spread.’ Glanduron added as he eyed Oakenshield’s company - who was further down from where Dwalin, Golbahar’s paramour, was seated.

Massaging his temples, Thranduil exhaled through his nose slowly before he nodded.

‘If we must.’ It was already a disaster but the Elvenking had no desire to have ill-tempered, hungry dwarrows that would most likely throw food at one another if their tempers were tested further.

From what Raudoron had to tell him, Elrond had had to suffer through such a fiasco when he had hosted a feast for the Company and he had no desire to deal with such a headache at the moment.

_‘Adar_ ! _Ada_!’

‘You two are late.’ Thranduil told his two sons, raising a brow at Bilbo who returned his gaze, unabashed. ‘Interesting colour choices, Bilbo.’ He added as he rose to embrace Legolas and ruffle Bilbo’s hair.

Shoving the Elvenking’s hand away, Bilbo huffed. ‘Yes, well I find myself choosing these because I thought they were fitting for the occasion but I only realised my colour choices after I put it on.’

Thranduil suppressed an amused smile and nodded. ‘Well, seeing as you are earlier than some of our other dignitaries I see no trouble with this.’ He replied as he gestured for the two to take their seats.

As he had told both of them, Bilbo sat by Glanduron’s side at his right and Legolas took the first seat at his left.

Catching the three guards about to station themselves at the exit of the dining halls where the other soldiers were stationed, Thranduil cleared his throat.

‘Guards Felfendir, Pedwegion and Mîludin, I highly suggest you take a seat as well seeing as this dinner may take a while yet.’ Catching Anoriel about to leave, he sighed. ‘Anoriel, your duty as Bilbo’s assistant dictates your presence at the table as well.’ He added.

He saw the discomfort Miludîn bore as he eyed the dwarrows and he could easily read Felfendir’s hesitance, Anoriel’s expression was that of surprise and Thranduil could not blame any of them for reacting the way they did. After all, in affairs of different kingdoms, no one knew how close the Elvenking’s ties to his people were. But seeing as Oakenshield brought his Company along, Thranduil decided there was nothing to hide about his love for his people.

The Elvenking waited.

At last, the four approached and carefully sat with Felfendir pulling up the chair closest to Bilbo for Anoriel and taking his place beside her, followed by Pedwegion and Miludîn, the latter looking like he was ready to bolt for the door if given the chance. Settling back on his seat - which really was just pillows seeing as the low tables would just need pillows to cushion one from the ground - Thranduil turned to begin speaking to his husband when he heard his younger brothers’ voices.

Thranduil suppressed the urge to call them over like when he would do so whenever they were late for important events and they were beginning to make their father worry. Instead, he waited until Raudoron and Lagoryn came in and hurriedly settled in their respective places without meeting Thranduil’s gaze.

‘ _Man agoreg, Raudoron?_ ’ Thranduil asked as he handed the bottle of wine to Legolas who passed it to his uncle without prompting. ‘ _Le abdollen_.’

‘ _Goheno nin, Muindor._ ’ His brother responded, his voice coming out in a manner that the Elvenking easily recognised as the tone Raudoron took to using when sulking. Thranduil raised a brow at his middle brother before looking at his youngest brother who merely looked amused.

‘I will tell you later.’ Lagoryn promised as he poured wine for both him and Raudoron. ‘Now, where are the other members of the party?’

‘Lost, I believe.’ Thranduil replied, switching to Westron as he sighed and gave the gesture for them to begin the meal. ‘Whatever their reason may be, I had stalled this long enough and I would rather not have irritated dwarrows at my hand.’ He added before smiling at Glanduron who had placed some food on his plate already.

‘ _Ci vilui, melleth_.’ He murmured softly before looking at his guests and chuckled when he caught sight of Felfendir and Bilbo lightly scolding Anoriel for only putting a scant portion of food on her plate.

‘Anoriel, just take the food. We are not lacking in resources.’ Glanduron told the young elleth whose cheeks flushed as she accepted the portion given to her.

It wasn’t until everyone was already eating that Kíli and Torsten ran in, both looking terribly dishevelled and still wearing their day clothes instead of their formal attire. Thranduil exchanged glances with his family before his brothers and son resumed their conversation regarding their woodworking projects that they started at the same time. Rising from his seat, Thranduil approached both of them and gave them directions to their seats.

‘And perhaps you can tell your brother why you were late.’ Thranduil added, nodding to the Crown Prince’s direction. ‘I had noticed he had been quiet since the start of the meal and I think he had been worrying over you and your uncle since we began.’

An embarrassed flush came upon the young prince’s cheeks before he nodded and squeezed Torsten’s bicep. The action was not unnoticed by Thranduil though the Elvenking did not make any comment about it. As he returned to his seat, Thranduil noted that Kíli seemed to be buzzing with poorly concealed excitement.

‘Bilbo?’ The young prince called out to the hobbit, a nervous smile on his face.

Bilbo turned his attention to the young dwarrow and he raised his brows at Kíli. ‘Yes, Kíli?’ He asked politely, peeking over at the young prince.

‘I was wondering if we could talk later?’ The young dwarven prince asked hesitantly.

Watching his adopted son carefully, Thranduil readied himself to step in when necessary if the hobbit showed any discomfort. But just as Bilbo was about to respond, he heard more footsteps.

‘You can talk to Bilbo after he and I speak privately.’ Thorin announced, his steps were sure and confident. Thranduil bristled at the sight but remained in his seat to avoid starting a scene. 

Behind the King Under the Mountain, Thranduil caught sight of Dáin and his spouse, Madhur who both looked exasperated at the hard-headed dwarven king. Thranduil caught the sharp intake of breath Bilbo had and he was about to speak for the hobbit when Bilbo beat him to it.

‘If you want to speak, Thorin, then fine. But we speak now so that you don’t ruin this night further.’ Bilbo answered tersely.

Distantly, Thranduil noted the muttered warnings of Felfendir and Anoriel trying to convince the hobbit not to overexert or to stress himself for the sake of hobbit politeness. But if there was a first impression Thranduil will never think he was wrong in in regards to the hobbit, it was the fact that Bilbo himself had his own hard-headed moments.

Looking at Thorin, Thranduil grit his teeth when he caught sight of the pride in his face. 

‘Excuse me, Thranduil.’ Bilbo cut Thranduil’s thoughts as the hobbit rose from his seat with hesitant aid from Anoriel.

Thranduil nodded, letting go of his annoyance best he could.

‘If Oakenshield does anything to upset you, just tell me, Glanduron or your guards.’ Thranduil advised the hobbit, his gaze never leaving the dwarven king.

He could not help but feel wary of what was to come.

* * *

**THE SEATING PLAN**

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> **TRANSLATION/S:**  
>   
>  **Adar -** Father ( _Formal_ )  
>  **Ada -** Father ( _Informal_ )  
>  **Man agoreg, Raudoron? -** What did you do, Raudoron?  
>  **Le abdollen. -** You’re late.  
>  **Goheno nin, Muindor. -** Forgive me, Brother.  
>  **Ci vilui, melleth. -** Thank you/You are kind, love.
> 
> * * *
> 
> So sorry for taking awhile with this chapter but hey I could promise another chapter for tomorrow! But hey uhhhhh let's see if Thorin's gift of choice will help him earn Bilbo's favour or not! Also, if you want to see some writing heads-up as well some of me posting my ideas, I have my writing tumblr which I haven't been using as frequently as I'd like which is [RIGHT HERE](https://mysteriarchofthepen.tumblr.com/) and I also have a [NaNoWriMo account](https://nanowrimo.org/participants/candolor) that I'm working on!
> 
> On other news, I'd like to be honest with all of you and let you know that this account was originally a spare account for writing random stories but then as time passed, I ended up enjoying this account more than my main which led to me deactivating and orphaning several works or so. I was C_RIE_ativity and have worked on fics like We're Dancing With the Demons in Our Minds and Let Us Dream On Until Death, both I'm still contemplating on bringing back eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ionneg - My Son  
> Ada - Father (Informal)  
> Mîwlas - Tiny Leaf (A childhood nickname Thranduil in this AU has given his son)  
> Nan i ‘aear ah in elin. - By the sea and stars.  
> Fëa - Spirit/Soul  
> Elleth - Elf (Female)  
> Ellon - Elf (Male)


End file.
